


I blame Tumblr

by DemonDean10



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Bottom John, F/M, Femdom, M/M, Multi, One Shot, Pegging, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2019-11-18 20:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDean10/pseuds/DemonDean10
Summary: I would just like to apologize to the world and myself for doing this.Based off this Tumblr post by @johnsdoublechin:@ the ppl who say John isnt a bottom at my last post well I got MY SOURCES. George, Ringo, Paul, Brian, Cynthia, and Yoko have all topped him thanks for listeningAnd so...this was born. Basically John bottoms for everyone. Everyone tops him. I did this instead of my actual fics.





	1. George

**Author's Note:**

> i don't put all these in the same universe. they're just one-shots.

**George 1971**

 

John spotted George in front of the piano, playing a soft melody one handed. They had just finished How Do You Sleep and were done for the day; George would be staying with them for the night. Gingerly, the older man walked towards George. 

 

“Yes, John?” George said without looking up. 

 

John stopped his movements. “Hey.” He said. “Just wanted to say thank you.”

 

His fellow ex-Beatle looked up with a frown, “What for?”

 

John went to sit next to him at the piano bench. “For playing with me, I appreciate it.”

 

There was a ghost of a smile on George’s lips, “Really?”

 

John rolled his eyes, “Yes,  _ really _ . You’re a great player, I’ve always said so.”

 

George turned back to the piano and scoffed, “No you haven’t.”

 

John didn’t answer right away. After all, George was right. John and Paul had always taken George (and Ringo) for granted, never knew how to show their appreciation until it was too late. “Well, I’m saying it now. Mother and I are happy to have you here.” Perhaps things could get fixed up between the two of them and they could leave all tension behind.

 

George acknowledged this with a simple hum. It was clear he didn’t really believe John, why would he? John had lied before to get what he wanted from the guitarist. Mainly betray Paul and side with Klein. Though John always told the story as if Paul had betrayed them and sided with Eastman.

 

John sighed and moved his hand to play a soft scale on the piano. His lovely white piano with splitters in the legs due to all the times it had been moved around. Then the younger man’s voice interrupted him. 

 

“There is one way you could make it up to me.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

 

John looked up, “Oh? And what’s that?”

 

George’s eyes were dark and narrow as he turned to face John, “You could get on your knees.”

 

Lennon gulped, recognizing the expression on his friend’s face and the tone. It really wasn’t anything new, but it had been quite some time since the two of them had done  _ this _ together. Still, he slid of the piano bench and knelt under the piano between George’s opened legs. John placed a hand on George’s knee, “You sure?” George had been the one to put a stop to these activities between them, quite firmly too. 

 

His response was a calloused hand coming down to grip his hair and move it towards George’s crotch. 

 

With a small smirk, John to nussle him through his jeans. He wanted to tease George until he broke. He let his tongue dart out and lick George. The hand on his hair tightened, sending a thrill down his back. 

 

“John…” George warned. 

 

The singer chuckled quietly and went on mouthing at the clothed dick for a while longer, until George pushed him away. 

 

The guitarist started to unbutton his jeans himself, on hand still gripping John’s short hair. “You better get on with it, Lennon.” He said and took his hardened cock out of his jocks. 

 

John leaned forwards immediately and licked the tip, tasting the pre cum. Finally, he took him into his mouth. John’s movements were slow as he started to take him in further, his glasses fogging up. George’s hand was gentle on his hair but once John’s nose reached pubic hair, it tightened and kept him in place. 

 

John looked up and found George a blurred figure over the rim of his glasses. He knew this game, he could be patient. His hands started to move and soon they were gripping George’s bollocks. The guitarist thrusted at the touch and choked John a little. 

 

Finally, George’s hold loosened and John was free to gobble up and down, his tongue swirling around George’s manhood. 

 

Above him, George had closed his eyes and was murmuring, “Yeah, come on, John. Fuck, you’re good.” 

 

The singer hummed in acknowledgment, earning himself another thrust. He continued to play with George’s balls and then he pulled himself up to lick at those instead. 

 

“Hell, John.” George muttered, “Bet you missed this, didn’t you? You always liked to get on your knees.”

 

In response, John pulled away to bite at his thigh in mock offense. 

 

George’s legs were trembling, but his arms were firm as they pulled John upwards. 

 

John frowned down at him from where he stood between the piano and George, his mouth shiny and red. “I wasn’t done yet.”

 

George grinned as he stood up and licked his lips, “Neither am I.” Then he took ahold of John’s hips and turned him around, then bent him over the piano.

 

John grunted as he hit the cold surface but smiled as he felt his belt being taken out and his jeans unbuttoned. George was right, he  _ had _ missed this. Not that mother didn’t like to play too.

 

George spend no time preparing him before he entered John, “Fuck, you’re  _ tight _ .”

 

The older man groaned, it was a good thing he’d given George a blow job or else it really would have hurt. His hands came to rest at the sides of his head, nails digging into the wood.

 

George started to move fast, uncaring about the piano keys screaming as their movements hit them. The only thing he wanted screaming was John. And he got his wish as he slammed into John’s prostate.

 

John was certain he’d scratched the paint, but he didn’t care. His moans were raising in volume and soon he was all but squealing. He didn’t care that this was a fairly open room surrounded by windows, he didn’t care that the others were a few rooms away eating or drinking. All that crossed his mind at the moment was George’s cock pounding away at him. “Please, George!” He yelled, “Please touch me.”

 

The guitarist obliged and started pumping John’s leaking cock, his thrusts becoming more erratic. 

 

John’s glasses had fallen off his face by now, his vision blurry. Anyone could be looking on and he would have missed them.

 

The same could be said for George, who had his eyes screwed shut. “I’m close,” He growled, “So close.”

 

“Come in me, George. Come  _ on _ .” Begged John, his voice ragged. He too was about to climax.

 

And George did, he slammed back into John one final time and filled him up. John followed soon after a twist of George’s hand, staining the piano keys. 

 

They stayed like that for a few moments, gasping and panting. Then the younger man pulled out and helped John stand back up again. John squinted at him, his eyes vulnerable with no lenses to hide behind. 

 

George couldn’t help it, he took ahold of John’s neck and dragged him in for a kiss. John tasted of tobacco, Yoko’s tea, and pre cum. George reached down to cup his arse and squeezed. 

 

John whimpered slightly and ran his hands down George’s sides, coming to rest on his waist. 

 

Then George pulled away, smirking at the sight of his bandmate’s swollen lips. 

 

John shifted somewhat uncomfortably, “I’d forgotten what it feels like to have cum inside you. Not the best feeling.” Some was running down his inner thighs, staining his jeans. 

 

George huffed and ran his thumb over John’s lower lip, “I bet you love it, really.”

 

John smiled upwards and shrugged, “I do.” He caught George’s thumb between his lips and started to suck. 

 

“Ready for round two already?” Came George’s amused voice. 

 

The singer moved closer and let got of the finger. He rested his hands on the other man’s shoulders, “Only if you want me.”

 

George wrapped him in his arms, “Oh, I do.” His eyes darkened with desire again, “I do.”


	2. Ringo

**Ringo 1965**

 

Ringo followed John into the room, their mates’ jeers and whistles following them. He closed the door and sighed. The four Beatles had been playing game after game of cards, getting more wasted as time passed. It had actually been John’s idea to make the stakes more risky and dirty. Tired and drunk as they were, the other three were willing to listen. John had suggested that at the end of the game, the winner got to fuck the loser. At first there had been some hesitation, especially with George, but John had convinced him soon enough. Of the four of them, John was the one with experience on queer matters and the others couldn’t deny that they were curious. 

 

And so now here they were. Ringo victorious, as he often was, and John the one with the worst hand on the table. George and Paul had cracked up when they realized this, while Ringo had reddened and John had looked away. 

 

Now John was sitting in his bed, slipping out of his jumper with shaking hands. 

 

Ringo sat across from him in his own bed and let out a sigh, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, lad. It’s just a bet.” A part of him was slightly hurt that John, who’d done this before, didn’t want to do it with Ringo. Was he too ugly for his tastes? 

 

John shook his head, “It’s not that, Ringo.” He put his arms around his stomach, “The thing is, I’m...fat.” The last word was a whisper. 

 

Ringo didn’t hear, “Sorry, what?”

 

John curled further into himself, “Fat.” He said in a louder tone. 

 

The drummer was thrown for a moment. He couldn’t help it, a laugh escaped him but he shut up as soon as he saw John flinch. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at that, it’s just…” He shook his head, “That’s ridiculous.”

 

John only shook his head.

 

“No, John. It is.” Ringo reached for the other’s chin and raised it up, “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re beautiful.”

 

John blushed but pulled away, “Now, who’s being ridiculous?” He sighed, “Look, let’s just get this over with-”

 

“I’m not gonna do anything unless you want it too, John. Bet or not.” Ringo said firmly. 

 

John stared at the floor for a moment. “Let’s just turn off the lights.” He said.

 

Ringo went to sit next to him and he grabbed a hold of his hand, “But I want to see ya.”

 

There was a scoff, “No you don’t.” And John turned away. 

 

Ringo was firm as he took John’s chin and made him face the drummer. “Yes I do, lad. Now, you want to do this?”

 

John nodded with widened eyes. 

 

“Okay.” Said Ringo and let him go. He nodded at the front of the bed, “Well, come on then. Show me.”

 

The younger man frowned, “What?”

 

Ringo nudged him to stand up, “I said I wanted to see you.”

 

John gaped where he stood, “I, I do-on’t…” He stuttered, shocked at the request. 

 

Ringo merely laid against the pillows and crossed his legs, “You lost the bet, Johnny-boy. Gotta do what I say.”

 

Technically, that hadn’t been a part of the bet. But John couldn’t deny the thrill he felt as the drummer’s deep voice ordered him around. He stood and went to the front of the bed.

 

Seeing him not moving, Ringo raised an eyebrow, “Well?”

 

Blushing, John got started on his trousers. His finger shook as he unbuttoned them and pulled the zipper down. He hesitated before pulling them down. 

 

“Hurry up now, lad.” Came Ringo’s voice with a touch of impatience. 

 

John felt like a rentboy, there to please an older man that would fuck him senseless in return. He loved it. He pulled his trousers down, blushing when it took some effort to get them off his thighs. Thankful he hadn’t been wearing shoes, he stepped away from the pooled garment and moved his hands to his button-up shirt. He popped the buttons quickly and was about to shrug it off when Ringo raised a hand. 

 

“Leave it on.” He said, “Take off your pants.”

 

John was certain he resembled more tomato than man by now, but he followed orders and slowly took off his boxers. He let them pool to the floor as well. Then stood there, head bowed as he was scrutinized. 

 

Ringo ran his eyes over the figure before him. He’d been right, John was beautiful. And that extra bit of weight just made Ringo want to hold him tight and never let go. But first, he wanted to play. “Touch yourself.” He ordered.

 

John wasn’t certain he heard right and when he looked up with a baffled frown, he was met with a pair of raised eyebrows. 

 

“I’ve seen ya do this before, lad. Don’t play coy with me.” Ringo said to him with a soft smirk.

 

A breeze entered the room and John shivered; he nodded at Ringo and went to do as told. He gasped as he took himself in hand and shyly started to rub himself. They’d had wanking sessions before, but this was just him standing completely naked and doing it for someone else’s sake. Not that he wasn’t enjoying it. In fact, he was in the middle of forgetting that there was someone watching him, so busy pumping and twisting his now hard cock, that it took him a while to see Ringo’s raised hand. Once he did, he let got immediately. 

 

Ringo chuckled and waved him over with that same hand. Once John was in front of him, he said, “Sit on my lap.”

 

John shivered but obeyed, his ass on Ringo’s things and his back to the other’s chest. Then, the unexpected.

 

Ringo hugged him. Put his arms around John’s stomach and squeezed him tight. 

 

John gasped but leaned back into the embrace and put his arms around Ringo’s. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d received such a hug. 

 

The drummer kissed one his shoulder blades, “I’ve never done this with a man before.” He whispered to him, “So I’m gonna need you to guide me, alright?”

 

John took a deep breath. “You’re gonna have to prepare me,” He said, “With lube.”

 

Ringo was drawing on his back with his fingers, his hand under the shirt, and getting shivers in return. “You have that?”

 

John nodded, “Yes.” It came in handy sometimes.

 

Ringo’s hands patted his hips, “Go get it, baby.” And he pushed John to stand up.

 

John bit his lip at the name and his cock twitched. He went to where he kept his suitcase and, after a brief moment of hesitation, bent down with his ass on the air. He knew he’d gotten a reaction when he heard Ringo take a deep breath. He found the bottle on one of the side compartments and walked back towards Ringo.

 

Ringo stood up to meet him and took the bottle off his hands. He nodded at the bed, “Lie down, baby.”

 

John did as told and closed his eyes. He heard the sound of the drummer taking his clothes off and opened them. He gasped when he saw Ringo’s cock, it was  _ huge _ . John most have seen it before but he’d never realized its size.

 

Ringo looked on amusedly, “Is everything alright?”

 

“It’s just, you’re”- He swallowed -“You’re  _ big _ .” An understatement. 

 

“Do you still want to do this, John?” Ringo had to ask. John would not be the first person (girl) to refuse due to his size. What was sometimes a blessing could also be a curse. Mostly for the person taking him in. 

 

John nodded, “Yeah, sure. It’s just, lube.” He said, “Lube.” Or else his ass would be out of business forevermore. It wasn’t Ringo’s fault, he couldn’t help his size. It was a joke he’d made countless of times before about the man’s height, but this was another kind of situation entirely. 

 

Ringo chuckled and went to kneel in front of John’s slightly widened legs. He put his hands on John’s knees and raised them up, exposing him to the drummer. He opened the bottle and poured some lube out, coating his fingers. He looked up a John, who smiled shyly at him, and then gently inserted a finger inside. 

 

John shifted a tad but it wasn’t very uncomfortable yet. He did gasp the ring entered him, it was a foreign feeling entirely. 

 

“You good for another one?” The drummer asked.

 

John nodded at him. 

 

Once he had the other finger inside, Ringo started to scissor them, the rings rubbing against themselves and against John. 

 

The younger man whined as another digit entered him, the slow movements becoming a sweet torture. “Please…” He murmured. 

 

“Yes, lad? What do you need?” Ringo asked with a smirk. 

 

John let out a breathy moan after a particular twist of the three fingers. “Yo-ou, Richie. I need ya.” 

 

Ringo was quick to coat his dick in the lube and removed his fingers from John. He took ahold of the other’s hips and started to rub circles with his thumbs as he slowly entered him. 

 

John hissed and screw his eyes shut. Ringo  _ was _ big, and at the moment that was doing nothing but pain him. 

 

The drummer stopped his movements, “Do you want to keep going?” 

 

John groaned out a ‘Yes’ and waved him on. 

 

Ringo resumed his actions and soon he was buried all the way inside John. 

 

The younger man had never felt more stretched in his life and it took him more than a minute to adjust. But soon he was nodding at Ringo to move.

 

The drummer took his time, moving in and out of John slowly and giving him time to adjust. 

 

The groans turned to moans and the hisses to whimpers. John started to push back into the other man, his cock bouncing with the action. 

 

Ringo started to move faster and faster, his hold on the other’s hips becoming tighter. 

 

John’s hands were scrunched up in the pillows, his back arching off the bed. After one particularly heavy thrust, he heard himself actually scream. 

 

Ringo’s ‘So beautiful, baby’ s and ‘Damn, you’re tight’ s were music to John’s ears and made him grin. 

 

The drummers hands moved from his hips to the man’s legs and raised them up, putting them over his shoulders to gain better access. He could not have imagined how perfect sex with a man, with John, could be. As good as with any woman, perhaps better. And jesus, the  _ sounds _ John made. It couldn’t be legal. He just imagined the other two wanking to John’s squeals and moans; it made him thrust harder and deeper. 

 

John knew that come morning he would not be able to move his butt anywhere, but he did not care. The pleasure of Richie’s huge cock thumping away inside him was more than worth the pain in the morning. 

 

Ringo finally reached his climax and pulled out, just to slam back into John again and let go inside him. 

 

Untouched, John followed, his back arched so much he feared he might hurt it. Once they were both finished, John collapsed back into the pillows, cherishing the familiar feeling of another man’s cum inside him. Usually, he would clean up but Ringo had left him absolutely exhausted. 

 

Ringo fells into the pillows next to him, “So how was that?”

 

John huffed out a tired laugh, “Remind me lose bets to you more often.”

 

The drummer chortled and drew him close, draping an arm over the singer’s waist. Curled up like that, they fell asleep.

 


	3. Paul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short cause it McLennon and this is in all my other stories so....still, I hope u like. 
> 
>  
> 
> I, erm, got a new idea for a McLennon fic.....so imma start t write that....because I have to order in my life..........all my other fics r planned so those will be written when i next have time, I just like this new idea.

**Paul 1966**

 

“I think John and I are going to stick around for a bit longer.” Said Paul, “Just wana go over a couple of songs.”

 

George Martin looked at them with a raised eyebrow, “Are you sure, boys?”

 

Paul smiled innocently at him and held up a piece of paper with some lyrics, “Yeah. Don’t worry, we won’t mess with your controls.”

 

George Martin hummed doubtfully, but nodded. “Alright then. Goodnight, Paul. Goodnight, John.”

 

“Goodnight, Georgini Martini!” Screamed John obnoxiously from where he was sitting on a stool spinning around. 

 

The producer sighed but said nothing and left the two writers to their activities. 

 

Once he was certain Martin was gone, Paul turned to John with a smile. 

 

His partner smirked at him, “Go over a couple of songs, eh?”

 

“I could hardly tell him the truth now, could I?” Paul said with a shrug.

 

“Oh, I wouldn't mind.” Said John. 

 

Paul didn’t answer, only came to stand before him, standing between John’s open legs. He raised a hand and cupped one of John’s cheeks, “Have you been a good boy, Johnny?”

 

John nodded with a proud smile, “Yes, daddy.”

 

Paul hummed, “Stand up and turn.”

 

John did as told, raising the back of his blazer so Paul didn’t have to.

 

His lover was wearing loose trousers that day, so Paul could easily slip a hand under the waistline and reach down to feel for the plug he’d put on his lover in the morning after a round of sex. He felt it underneath the underwear and tapped it in approval, making John jump. “Very good, darling. I’m proud of you.”

 

John smiled and closed his eyes, “Thank you, daddy.” He knew that when they were playing this roles he wasn’t allowed to say more than short sentences. 

 

“Do you think you’re ready to take me again?” Paul asked as he rubbed the other’s shoulder.

 

John turned to face him, “Please, daddy.” He  _ had _ been ready all bleeding day. Paul hadn’t just stuck a plug in him that morning, he’d also made John wear a tight thong that dug it in deeper, dug between his asscheeks, and rubbed against his dick. John needed release  _ now _ .

 

Paul helped him out of his jacket, then took off John’s tie. “Open up, darling.”

 

Obediently, John opened his mouth and allowed Paul to gag him with the colourful tie. 

 

“Can’t have anybody hearing your moans, can we?” Paul asked as he tied the knot. 

 

John shook his head in response. 

 

Paul stepped away, “Now finish undressing, leave the panties on.”

 

John reddened as he took off his shirt, shoes, and trousers, ending up bare except for the black lacy underwear. He stood straight as Paul walked around him in circles, unzipping his own dress pants. 

 

A hand came to rest on his ass and slapped it gently, “Aren’t you a delight?” Paul whispered in his ear, “I could eat you right up. In fact, I think I will.”

 

John shivered as he heard Paul get on his knees behind him and take ahold of the paties, which he pulled off slowly and let pool at the end of John’s legs. The older man whined as the feeling of the plug moving slowly up and down inside him, Paul moving it with his deft fingers; he whimpered as it was removed. 

 

Paul licked his lips as he stared up at John’s gaping hole, the man still wet from that morning and well stretched. His first lick was tentative but soon he was shoving his tongue right in there, tasting himself in John. 

 

John’s legs were shaking and his toes were curled. He knew he couldn’t touch himself or his daddy would be very upset, so his hands were up clutching at his shoulders. He bounced on his feet as he felt Paul’s experienced tongue lapping away at his hole. 

 

Paul’s hands were tight on John’s hips, keeping him still for him. After one final suck, he stepped away and stood up. Turning John around, he said, “I love you, y’know that?”

 

John nodded with half lidded eyes. 

 

“Do you love me?” Paul asked with a gentle smile, completely contrasting the situation they were in. 

 

His lover nodded again, wishing he could speak and reassure Paul of this fact. 

 

But Paul didn’t need him to, he just smiled and pressed a kiss to John’s forehead. “Lay down, then.” He said. 

 

John did as told, spreading his legs and arms wide. The floor was cold but he knew that he’d be hot soon enough. 

 

Paul stared down at him with lust filled eyes, licking his lips in anticipation. Finally, he kneeled down between John’s opened legs and started to pull down his trousers and pants in one go. He kicked them aside with little care and pumped his dick, eager to get inside John. 

 

His lover was resisting the urge to touch himself, clenching his fists by his sides to keep them still and whining under the gag. 

 

Laughing, Paul moved so he was more on top of John and looked him right in the eyes. “I love those little sounds you make, darlin’.” He said, “If only I didn’t have to keep you gagged…” He shrugged, there were others in the building and the last thing they needed was a scandal about two Beatles fucking in the studio. 

 

John answered him with a muffled mewl and a thrust of his hips upwards. 

 

Paul smacked his ass, “Naughty boy.” He said, “Maybe I ought to shove the plug back in, add a cock ring, and refuse you release until the morning.” He would never actually do that, but it was fun to see John’s eyes widen in fear. “No? That’s what I thought.” He sighed down his lover and started caressing a nipple, pinching and dragging it. 

 

John whimpered, trying his best not to move and upset his daddy again. He could feel his hole clenching, needing something inside. 

 

Deciding John had been tortured long enough, Paul raised the other’s knees and angled himself. He groaned as he entered him, meeting almost no resistance from the well prepared body beneath him. 

 

John bit down on the tie, huffing out little whimpers that reminded him of one of Paul’s dogs. 

 

Paul put his hands over John’s wrists to keep them in place, not wanting his lover to touch himself. He started to move his hips, slowly at first, slipping in and out of John with practiced ease. 

 

Cock bouncing, John was pushing back into his lover, eyes shut tight and back sweating. 

 

“If the others could see you now, Johnny. What would they think?” Paul’s pace was growing faster. “See you taking in my hard cock so easily, so used to being fucked up the ass.” The pace was brutal now, lust completely overtaking Paul.

 

John moaned at his words even as he blushed. 

 

Paul bent down to bite and suck at John’s neck. “I should keep you tied to my bed, plugged all day so we never have to waste time preparing you. Would you like that, Johnny? You’d be my toy, my pretty slut.”

 

His answer was a scream of pleasure as he slammed into his lover, barely even muffled. John loved to be called all sorts of names in bed, the humiliation doing things for his sex drive. He nodded along to all of John’s words. 

 

Paul wasn’t even thinking anymore, he was too wrapped up in slamming his cock in and out of John. He’d wrapped his lips around a nipple, sucking and biting at it. 

 

John felt tears start to fall from his eyes at the utter pleasure Paul was giving him. Being horny for an entire day of work had definitely been worth it. 

 

Paul’s hold on John’s wrist loosened and instead he brought them to a hickey littered neck, raising John’s head and bringing it to his neck, holding him tight as he fucked him. 

 

John was shrieking in ecstasy now, the new position allowing Paul to better slam into him. He felt his climax nearing and brought his hands to grip at Paul’s hair. 

 

His lover brought a hand down and grabbed John’s manhood, twisting and pumping with expert hands. Soon, he felt his lover go still and spill into his hand, a muffled shout escaping his lips. 

 

Knowing he was close, Paul pulled out of John and reached to pull out the gag. He grabbed John by the neck and moved him down. 

 

No words were necessary for John to know what Paul needed. He put his dry mouth around Paul’s leaking cock and was soon met with his daddy’s seed. Like a good boy, he swallowed every drop and licked him clean afterwards. 

 

Paul moaned as he came, caressing the other’s neck. “That’s a good boy, Johnny.”

 

Once he was done, John pulled away and knelt on the floor, curious if the scene was over or not. He, for one, was too exhausted to have another round. 

 

“Come ‘ere.” Came Paul’s whisper, he’d opened his arm and was gesturing at John to join him. 

 

Gladly, John wrapped himself around Paul, head buried in his neck. “I love you.”

 

Paul smiled with eye closed and held John closer, “And I love you.”


	4. Brian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this one is very kinky....  
> there is no non-con or dub-con, all this is supposed to be consensual. hope u like it.

**Brian 1964**

 

They were in the middle of a photoshoot at the hotel suite and John was being a nuisance as always. He refused to sit still for the pictures and kept making his bandmates burst out laughing. He insulted the photographer, made three props fall over, and kept playing around with his outfit. He was dressed in all black with a large, red, satin bow around his neck. The others were dressed in other colours, Ringo had a boa, Paul wore a cat ear diadem, and George had a cape. All in all, a regular photo shoot for the Beatles.

 

But Brian had had enough with the young man’s behavior, “John! Stop this instant!”

 

John smirked at him, “What for?”

 

“Now is not the time for your games.” His manager said in a stern voice. 

 

The singer huffed out a chortle and shrugged, “Of course it is.”

 

Brian walked close to him, making the other three move away. “John, I’m serious.”

 

John looked up at him in defiance, “Step away, Brian. The man doesn’t want pictures of you.”

 

That was too much for the manager, who immediately moved and took ahold of the satin bow. He pulled the young man close, “You’re coming with me.” He moved away, dragging the protesting Beatle behind. 

 

“Brian! Let go of me!” John yelled as he was dragged towards the manager’s room, but he was ignored. 

 

Brian pulled John inside, to the astonished looks of the boys and the photographer, and locked the door behind them. He brought the boy up and close to his angry face and said, “Be quiet now, boy. Or you’ll get twice the punishment.”

 

John growled at him, “Fuck you.”

 

He was slapped in return. 

 

Brian took a hold of the bow once again and dragged John to the bed, putting him over his lap after he sat down. He grabbed the waistline of the black trousers the singer was wearing and dragged them down along with his underpants. 

 

John struggled in his grasp, “What the hell do you think you’re doing-  _ Argh _ !” The older man had just delivered a firm slap to his ass.

 

Brian raised his eyebrow, “Now are you going to whine, or take it like a grown man?”

 

John kicked his legs, “Get off me!”

 

Brian’s hold on the satin bow tightened, “Whine then.” He raised hand and brought it down on the boy’s bottom. 

 

John bit down on his lip and tried to move away. 

 

“You’ve been a bad boy, John.” Brian said as he raised his hand, “And you  _ will _ be punished, understand?” He brought it down once more. 

 

John let out a groan.

 

“Count them.” Came the order. 

 

John glared, “Fuck you.”

 

The slap was harder this time, “ _ Count them _ .”

 

John realized that the only way this would end was if he cooperated. “Four.” He bit out. 

 

“No, no.” Said Brian, “You’re starting from one.” He brought his hand down.

 

John whined at the back of his throat, “One.”

 

Brian’s hold on the satin bow was strong as he delivered another slap.

 

“Two.”

“Three- _ ah _ !”

 

By the time they got to twenty, John’s bottom was red and aching. He’d given up on holding back the yelps and his eyes were watering. 

 

“Just a few more, John. You’ve been a good boy.” Brian said and brought his hand down again.

 

One tear fell, “Twenty-one.”

 

“Twenty-two…”

 

Brian delivered the final three in a rapid succession, making John squeal particularly loud. 

 

John’s ragged breaths were heard afterwards. “Are we done?” He asked in a weak voice. 

 

Brian laughed coldly, “Oh no, Johnny. Me and the other boys will be going out to dinner while you stay here and think about what you’ve done.”

 

“Bur Brian-”

 

“But nothing, John. This entire week you have behaved as an absolute brat and I will have no more of it.” Brian moved him off his lap and onto the bed, laying on his stomach. “Stay put.” He ordered.

 

John longed to run, but the truth was his ass hurt like a bitch and the trousers wrapped around his legs would hinder his movements. He felt his arms being taken and held behind his back. “What are you doing?” He asked in an apprehensive tone.

 

Brian tied the two wrists together with thin but effective rope and said, “Making sure you stay put.” He went for the legs next, bending them at the knees after taking off John’s clothes (the shirt would stay on). He tied the ankles to the boy’s wrists, leaving him completely immobile in the hogtied. Next, he used another short rope to connect the John’s satin bow to the wrists and ankles, forcing him to keep his head up. 

 

John tried to move and found little relief, “Isn’t this a bit much, Brian?”

 

“Not at all, John. This is only what is deserved.” He said and came round to face John, “Now, open up.” He was holding a gag in hand. It was long and would get inside John’s mouth like a cock, then the outside would cover the entirety of his chin and mouth area. No one would hear him. 

 

John, the rebel, kept his mouth firmly closed and shook his head, attempting to get away. But it was no use and soon Brian was forcing the cock-like gag into his mouth. 

 

He locked it at the back of John’s head and patted the top of it, “This is what’s best for you, John.”

 

John growled, but it was inaudible. He tried to scream as Brian opened the door and started to leave but it only served to bury the gag deeper down his throat and pull at the satin bow holding his head up. It was for naught, John was left tied up with only the light from beyond the windows illuminating him.

 

It was an hour and a half later that Brian returned, smirking as he remembered the gift that was waiting for him inside his room. He walked in to find John in the same exact position he’d left him, the boy raising his eyes when he heard the door opening. He was crying. 

 

Brian tutted and walked towards him, he stopped once he was in front of him. “Have you learned your lesson, John?”

 

The boy nodded frantically, pulling at the satin bow. 

 

Brian smiled and went to untie the ankles and to remove the rope pulling John’s neck up. He left the hands tied and the gag in, the others would be going to sleep now and it wouldn’t do good to disturb them.

 

Immediately, John started to push up his ass in the older man’s direction. 

 

Brian chuckled and caressed a calf, “What’s this? You want me to fuck you?”

 

John nodded into the pillow, moaning behind the gag. 

 

“Well...if you insist.” Said Brian and started to remove his clothes, “You do deserve it.” He knelt behind the boy once he was bare and rubbed his hands over John’s ass, taping it gently and making the younger man jump.

 

He poured a generous amount of lube into his hands and started to finger John, rejoicing in the shiver that overcame the boy. A few moments later he asked, “Are you ready?”

 

John nodded with closed eyes, toes and fingers curled. 

 

Brian coated himself then raised himself up, left hand curled on John’s waist as the other went to take a hold of the satin bow. He pushed in slowly, moaning at the tightness.

 

John pushed back excitedly, blood pumping. 

 

Brian started to move in and out, riding John like a horse with the bow acting as his reins. His movements became faster and soon he was slamming in and out of John. 

 

The younger man choked as the rapid movements made him slam into the gag, but squealed as Brian hit his his prostate repeatedly. The bed was shaking with their actions, the headboard hitting the wall. So much for the others getting sleep. 

 

Brian moaned, “Fuck, you’re  _ good _ . All good for me. You are mine, aren’t you, John?”

 

John wanted to scream and promise that he  _ was _ , he was Brian’s and no one else’s. Nobody could make him feel like this, make him wail like this. No one made love to him like Brian.

 

His manager slammed deep into him one last time and came with a gasp. 

 

John followed soon after, untouched, with wide, blissed out eyes. They closed soon after. 

 

John woke to find himself untied and with his mouth free. He stretched his mouth and rubbed at his sore wrists. 

 

A soft hand was caressing his waist from behind him, “Are you alright, doll? It wasn’t too much?”

 

John laughed and fell back into Brian’s arms, bringing his knees up to his chest. “No.” He said in a dry voice, “It was perfect.” They’d been planning the scene for weeks, John acting like a brat and his manager punishing him.

 

Brian kissed the back of his now bare neck. “Good.”

 

John hummed, “Where did you even get that gag anyways?”

 

The older man wrapped an arm around him, “I’ve got my ways.”

 

His response was a yawn. 

 

Brian smiled lovingly at John. “Go back to sleep,” He said, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

 

John closed his eyes, “Promise?”

 

“Promise.”


	5. Cynthia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings:  
> pegging  
> pet play
> 
>  
> 
> this is kinkey omg what am i doing

**Cynthia 1967**

 

Cynthia walked to the bedroom door with confidence. John and her were on holiday, completely alone in the rented beach house. It was early in the morning and she’d just gone for a walk on the beach. She smirked as she reached the door, aroused even at the idea of what she would find inside. It had been a recommendation of one her friends, a way to keep husbands in line. And lucky for her, John was just crazy enough to try it. 

 

She opened the door slowly, holding her breath. Cynthia looked around for John and smiled when she found him. Her husband was curled on the carpeted floor, not asleep but dozing. He was naked but for a thick leather collar around his neck, a bone-shaped gag on his mouth, and a leather chastity belt. All things that had taken her time to acquire but she’d found them in the end. The belt in particular was quite...special. To go along with the gag, the belt had a plug that went into her husband and a tail that came out. She grinned wickedly, John was her puppy now. 

 

His eyes opened as she walked closer, looking up at with vulnerable eyes. She’d taken his glasses and as such, with his terrible vision, he was at her mercy. 

 

Cynthia ran a hand through his hair, “And how is my puppy?”

 

He leaned into her touch and raised his bound hands, the thumbs held down so that they acted as paws. He put them on her thigh and tilted his head. When Cynthia had raised the idea he had been incredibly intrigued, never imagining his wife would entertain those ideas, and so he’d agreed. She had left him like this earlier in the morning, but they still had the whole day ahead….what now?

 

Cynthia pulled at his hair gently and went away, going to her suitcase and taking out her special bag. She got a leash out of it and went back to tie to John’s collar, his head moving submissively to give her better access. 

 

She pulled on it, “Come.”

 

They went into the living room, John on his knees and hands, and she sat down on the sofa. Then she picked up a thick book she’d bought just for this trip and opened it. 

 

John stared at her in confusion. Was she going to read? What was he supposed to do? He whined behind the gag. 

 

Cynthia chuckled and pointed downwards. “You can curl up by my feet, puppy.”

 

He stared for a moment, but then did as she instructed. It took some time to get comfortable, but finally he found himself with his hands over her feet and his cheek resting on them. The plug shifted inside him and he moaned quietly, receiving a small chuckle from his wife. His legs were curled under the coffee table, the floor cool to his bare skin. It was kind of boring, but soon he found himself actually finding sleep like earlier in the bedroom. 

 

Cynthia read three chapters on the book before John started to shift by her feet. He rubbed his face against her ankle and whined. She looked down at him, “What’s wrong puppy?”

 

John wanted to say that he was hungry, but the wide gag between his teeth silenced him. He tried to say it but it came out as a mumbled mess, so he continued to paw at her legs. 

 

She pulled on the leash, “Stop that.” She ordered and he did with a disappointed hum. Cynthia looked at him for a few moments, then asked, “Are you hungry?”

 

John nodded enthusiastically. 

 

She chuckled and caressed his hair. “Very well.” She stood up and looked down at him with a stern eyebrow, “Stay.”

 

He waited by the sofa, kneeling and resting his head on the cushions as she talked on the phone, calling down for room service. John looked at his hands, rendered useless by the handcuffs Cyn had bought and resembling paws. Then he looked down at the belt, its leather rubbed comfortably at his skin but the buckles were metal and cold. The plug wasn’t very big but it’s twisting shape was enough to remind him of its presence with every move. The belt had garters that went down to wrap around his thighs, restricting his movement even further. His legs were not bound, but his wife had made it clear that if John even thought of standing up there would be severe consequences. His dick stirred as he regarded himself, restricted by the belt as well. He was glad that he’d agreed to this.

 

Cynthia came back and looked at him with hooded eyes. The sight of her normally dominant and hot headed husband bound on the floor, submissive and desperate, was extremely pleasing. “The food should be up in a minute.” She told him as she scratched his hair. 

 

John wanted to smile, but instead he just made a thankful sound. 

 

The food arrived after a few minutes. Cynthia had ordered curry, one of John’s favourites. He followed her into the kitchen, expecting her to free him for the time being. But she did no such thing, Cynthia just served herself a plate and sat down to eat, patting his head as he frowned at her.

 

What was Cynthia playing at? He was hungry! John pushed at her chair and growled in discontent. After being ignored, he kept pushing and pawing at her. He pushed his head against her thigh after being hushed. 

 

Then, unexpectedly, she turned quickly and delivered a firm slap against his nose like one might deliver to a snout. John retreated, whimpering and raising his tied hands to caress his nose. 

 

She raised an eyebrow, “Naughty pets don’t get fed, John.”

 

He looked up at her blurred figure, shivering unconsciously. 

 

“Wait for your turn.” She ordered and returned to her curry and wine.

 

Disheartened, John decided to lay back on the ground and wait. His stomach grumbled a few times, but Cynthia did not acknowledge this. 

 

Finally, after she’d washed her dishes, his wife turned to him. John perked up and whined, widening his eyes. 

 

Chuckling, she went to grab a plate and served him his food. Then, to his surprise, Cynthia set it on the floor in front of him, not on the table. She went to remove the gag but said first, “I want you to eat it like this, puppy. Is that alright?”

 

After a few moments, John nodded in agreement. 

 

Smiling, Cynthia removed the bone gag. “Good boy.”

 

He positioned his hands in front of him as leverage and leaned down. The curry, as was its nature, was covered in sauce and soon John found his chin covered in it too. Still, he picked up the pieces with his tongue and chewed slowly, savouring. Then, after a brief look at Cynthia, he licked all the sauce left until the plate was almost clean. 

 

His wife ran a soft hand through his hair, “Good job, Johnny. What do we say?”

 

John leaned into her touch, “Thank you...mistress.”

 

Cynthia’s breathing grew heavy and she smiled in satisfaction. “Let me clean you up.” She told him and wiped his chin with a rag. 

 

He licked his lips after she was done. “What now, mistress?” His cock had been straining under the belt for hours now, would she please him now?

 

She ran a finger over his lower lip, considering her options. “You’ve been a good boy, Johnny.” She told him, “Would my puppy like a reward now?”

 

John nodded rapidly, smiling. 

 

She chuckled, “Very well.” 

 

Obediently, John let take ahold of the leash. He was led to the bedroom much to his excitement, but he frowned as the bed was bypassed and he was taken to the bathroom instead. 

 

Once there, Cynthia took out a key from her breast pocket and knelt down to remove the chastity belt, her husband whining as the plug was taken out. “I think you deserve a bath.”

 

John groaned quietly, he’d been hoping for something more...exciting. Still, he was quiet after she removed the leash, uncuffed him, and went to pour him a bath. 

 

One the water was warm, she turned and snapped her fingers. “Come.” 

 

John dragged himself to her and went into the tub. Once he was sitting there, he looked up at her. He was bare but for the collar.

 

First, she washed his hair. Her hands were gently scratching at his head, spreading the shampoo all over his locks. John hummed as she worked, this was a feeling he could get used to. His hands were always rough when he washed his hair, while Cynthia was careful and soft. She rinsed water through it slowly, letting her caresses relax John. 

 

His back was next, it arched as she ran the sponge throughout it. John moaned quietly, “You’re amazing, Cyn.”

 

“Quiet, puppy.” She told him, but she was smiling. 

 

She washed his front, taking her time caressed and dragging her nails softly over his legs. John was close to falling asleep, which was ridiculous considering how much he’d slept already. 

 

Cynthia finished and stood up. She went to retrieve a large towell and opened it up, “Come.” She said.

 

John stood up carefully and stepped over the edge of the tub. He walked towards her and was enveloped by the warm and fluffy towel.

 

She led him away from the restroom and gestured at him to sit down in the bed. Then went back into the restroom as he dried himself up. She came back with the belt, cuffs, and gag. 

 

John looked at her. Was the game not done yet?

 

Cynthia chuckled at his look, “Don’t worry, puppy. I’m just putting these away.”

 

John smiled and let the towel fall, showing off his bare body.

 

Cynthia bit her lip and her hold on the collar tightened. She brought him closer and kissed him hard. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and they moaned together.

 

John brought a hand up to waist and was moving it down when Cyn caught it.

 

“Oh no, John.” She said, “Tonight, I’m in charge.”

 

Her husband moved back, “Where do you want me, mistress?”

 

She considered him for a moment before saying, “Get on all fours, I have a surprise for you.”

 

John got an excited thrill up his back and hurried to do as told. Soon, he felt a cold and wet finger near his entrance and he gasped. 

 

“Is this okay, puppy?” Cynthia asked softly.

 

John hummed and nodded.

 

Smiling, Cyn continued to prob at his entrance. Once she had two finger in she started to scissor them, making sure her husband would be well enough stretched for the rather large strap-on. That one had also been hard to find, but luckily her friends knew all sorts of places.  

 

John moaned as he felt a third finger enter him and whimpered as his wife stretched him. He was so happy he’d agreed to this game, they had never had sex as good as this. 

 

“Are you ready, puppy?” Cynthia asked, excited as she went to grab the strap on. 

 

John let out a needy groan, “Yes, mistress. Please fuck me, please.”

 

Cynthia took a hold of the collar and leaned down to snog John passionately. 

 

The younger man kissed back eagerly, opening up his mouth. 

 

She moved away and carefully started to enter John. 

 

John yelped a little as the strap on entered him, but Cyn had done a good job at preparing him and so the pain didn’t last long. Good thing he’d done this before, though he doubted Cynthia knew that. 

 

Boy, was he wrong.

 

Cynthia ran a hand down his back, “This shouldn’t be too difficult for you, puppy. Isn’t that right?” She was moving in and out slowly, gentle still.

 

John froze and she laughed. 

 

“That’s right, John.” She went in a little harder, “You think I don’t know about all those people, all those men that you spread your legs for…” She slammed into his prostate. 

 

John gasped at the feeling, “Cy-yn, I-”

 

“Hush now, Johnny.” She said with a smirk, “That’s right, so many of them, so many have had you...I think it’s my turn now.”

 

John whined and moaned as she sped up, her hold on the collar tight. “ _ Yes _ , mistress.”

 

“That’s right.” Cynthia groaned, “ _ I’m _ your mistress, no one else.” She took ahold of his legs and spread them even farther. 

 

John squealed deep in the back of his throat after a particularly strong thrust, “Yes! No one else, _ no one _ .”

 

Cynthia‘s hold on his legs was tight, encouraged by the feeling of ecstacy overcoming her. She was sure that she’d come soon, power rushing through her veins. 

 

John longed for his wife to touch him, to give him relief. “Please, Cyn…” He begged, “Please touch me- Aah!”

 

It wasn’t just the strap on, Cynthia had a finger in too and was twisting it around as she moved. 

 

John gasped and whined at this and pushed back farther. “Holy  _ fuck- _ ”

 

“Language, puppy.” Cynthia gasped, even as she twisted her finger inside her husband. 

 

John could cry, if he didn’t get to come soon…

 

His wife felt herself reaching completion, even without touching herself. The feeling and sight of John so devoted and wrecked was enchanting. She took her finger out and moved her hand to grasp at her husband’s cock. 

 

John’s eyes were closed in bliss as Cyn made him come, his body failing him and making him fall to the mattress. 

 

Cynthia pulled out of him soon after, gasping and sweating. She fell to the bed next to him. 

 

John was panting into the pillow, body shaking. He raised his head a little bit and looked at her with awe filled eyes, “That was  _ amazing _ , Cyn.” He was out of breath.

 

Cynthia smirked at him, “I know.” she ran a hand through his hair and touched the collar, “Thanks for playing, puppy.”

 

“Oh, any time.” John said and also reached up to feel the leather collar. It felt good around his neck, he had no desire to take it off.

 

Cynthia kissed his shoulder, “I love you, John.”

 

John grinned tiredly, “And I love ya, Cyn.” He huffed out a laugh, “You have no idea.”

 

Cynthia smiled, her plan had worked. 


	6. Stuart and Astrid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> -vouyerism (I think that’s misspelled sorry)  
> -Femdom  
> -plugs and cock rings

**Stu and Astrid 1960**

 

“You want us to what?” Stuart asked, paintbrush loose in his hand. 

 

John, reading book next to him, was also gaping up at Astrid.

 

The woman stared them down, “You heard me.”

 

John huffed out a laugh, “Did we? Because it sounded like you wanted us to, to fuck.”

 

Astried walked closer with a smile, “That’s right.” She said.

 

Stuart put down his brush, “But...why?”

 

“Because it would be really hot.” She said in a matter of fact way. “I’ve been thinking about it for months.”

 

John smirked, “Really?”

 

Stuart hit his arm, “John!”

 

The younger man rubbed his arm, “Ow, what?”

 

Astrid laughed, “I’m glad you’re intrigued John. Because you are the one I’d like to see you on the bottom.”

 

John did a double take, “Why me?” He couldn’t help but be curious. 

 

Stu chuckled, “You have to ask?”

 

John hit him this time.

 

Astrid took John’s book and set it down. She ran a fine nail down his cheek, “Are you willing to do this, John?”

 

The young man looked at her then at Stu, was he ready to take it up the arse? Sure, he’d kissed and groped a few blokes but this? 

 

Seeing his hesitation, Stuart felt confidence flow through him. He bumped him and said, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.”

 

John glared, but blushed as he did so. Finally, he nodded towards the ground.

 

Astrid turned to her boyfriend, “And you?”

 

Stuart sighed, but he nodded as well. In all honesty , the idea was lovely and made his cock twitch.

 

Astrid smiled as she stood up, “Very well. Get naked, the both of you.”

 

John laughed, “You’re just going to watch?”

 

“No.” She answered, surprising them. “Go stand over there, John. We don’t need you yet. Stuart, stay seated.”

 

They obeyed her, amused and curious. Stuart watched curiously as she walked towards him, swinging her hips. He could feel himself harden merely at the sight of her. Finally, she reached him. 

 

Stuart was dressed only in his boxers now, but she reached down and started to slip them off. He raised himself to help her and let her throw them to the ground. He gasped as she touched his cock, starting to rub it.

 

John was taking off his drainies now, feeling himself hardening at the display. No wonder Astrid wanted to watch, it was electrifying.

 

Stu gasped and groaned as she gave him a hand job, making his cock perk tall and aching. He longed for release when she stopped her movements. “L-love?”

 

She stood up and went to get a small vial from a drawer. Then she went back to him and coated his dick in the lube, making sure the ride would be smooth. She pecked Stu in the lips and stood back up. 

 

Turning to John, she smirked, “Now it’s your turn.”

 

John was gaping at her. Astrid not only wanted Stuart to fuck him, no, John had to fuck himself on Stu’s cock. The thought made him incredibly aroused, but surely it wouldn’t be easy.

 

Stuart spoke up, “Come on, Johnny. Please.” He was gripping the arms of the chair tightly.

 

John walked towards him, not entirely sure what to do.

 

Astrid sat herself down on her bed, “Sit on him.” She ordered.

 

John shuddered but turned around so that his back was to Stuart. The older man grabbed him by the hips and moved him closer, John having to spread his legs wide to move on top of him. 

 

The singer gasped as he felt Stu’s cock brush against him. 

 

Stuart reached his hand to rub his stomach, “It’s alright, love. Just relax.”

 

Slowly, Stuart helped John lower himself. John felt a burning as he was stretched but the lube has helped tremendously. He shut his eyes as he went down, whining. Finally, he was seated completely in the older boy’s lap, his thick cock buried inside him.

 

“Stay there.” Said Astrid in a breathless voice as she stood up and went for her camera.

 

The boys were still as she photographed them, John appreciating the time to get used to the feeling of someone inside him. 

 

Astrid put her camera down, “Move.” She said.

 

It became clear that John was the one supposed to move, and slowly but surely he started to move himself slightly up and down. 

 

It wasn’t enough for Astrid, “More.”

 

John, with his hands on the armrests, pushed himself farther up resulting in Stuart’s cock digging deeper when he fell back down. 

 

Stu was moaning into his back, caressing his hips. 

 

“Faster.” Astrid ordered, laying sideways on the bed.

 

John obeyed, bringing himself up and down on the hard cock. His arms were getting a great deal of exercise. John was whimpering and moaning, but a howl was ripped from his throat as Stuart thrusted up just as he was going down. “Argh, do that again!” He moaned.

 

Stuart indulged him, making the chair shake as he thrusted his hips upwards.

 

Astrid was touching herself as she watched, grateful that she’d been confident enough to ask them to do this.

 

John gasped brokenly after a particularly hard thrust and his hands slipped off the armrests. Now Stuart was the one picking him up and down, handling John like a rag doll.

 

John rested his head on Stu’s shoulder, moaning and yelping as his prostate was hit repeatedly. 

 

“I’m close.” Stuart gasped out.

 

Astrid said the same thing.

 

Together, they came. Stuart brought John down hard and came inside him, biting his shoulder.

 

John gasped as he was filled, but it wasn’t enough for him to come yet. He whimpered, his cock was hard and aching. “Ple-please  _ touch me _ .” He wasn’t sure who he was talking to.

 

Stuart made to obey but Astrid slapped his hand away. “No.” She said and touched John’s sides. “Stand up.”

 

John whined but obeyed, legs shaking. Stuart was spent, he stood up after John and headed towards the bed, slumping into it. 

 

Astrid smirked at John, scaring him. She walked behind him and hummed approval as she saw that he was clenching, keeping Stu’s cum inside him. She went to her drawer and took out two things. Then she returned to John. “Do you still want to please me, John?”

 

Stuart was watching them from the bed, eyes widened.

 

John curled his toes but nodded, “Yes, yes.”

 

Astrid smiled, kissed his shoulder right where Stu had left his bite mark and got one toy ready.

 

John whimpered as he felt a plug slip into him, keeping Stu’s cum trapped inside him for who knows how long. Then Astrid walked to his front, laughed quietly at his aroused expression, and was quick to put a cock ring on John. Thankfully, he was less hardened than earlier and it made it easier to get it on and adjust.

 

Stuart stood up then and admired John. “Holy shit, love. What now?” He asked Astrid.

 

Astrid spanked John’s bottom lightly, making him jump. “You have a performance, don’t you?”

 

John raised his eyebrows, “Y-you want me to, hmm, to perform like this.” The plug made itself very well know every time he shifted. And the cock ring was torture.

 

Astrid grabbed John’s clothes, “Yes.”

 

Stuart put on his own clothes, laughing in anticipation.

 

John couldn’t help but also be excited, so he grabbed his stuff and started to get dressed.

 

Astrid smirked at him, “Maybe if you’re lucky Stuart will take pity and fuck you again in the loo.”

 

John and Stuart both moaned.

 

John gasped as his locked cock was grabbed and squeezed.

 

“But,” started Astrid, “You’re not coming until you two are back here.” She turned to Stu, “Understood?”

 

Stuart nodded, “Oh, yes.”

 

And he did take pity on John and fucked him quickly in the loos between performances, twice. He always shoved the plug back in after and didn’t remove the cock ring, even when John begged to come. The others could see that John was slightly more unhinged than usual but left it to drugs to explain.

 

And finally, after a six hour (shorter than usual, thank god) night of work, Stu and John went back to Astrid, practically running.

 

Yes, they’d definitely like to play again.


	7. Paul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Paul. Yay.  
> This one is really looong.
> 
> Warnings:  
> -Daddy kink  
> -bondage
> 
> Enjoy, this was prompted by an anon!

**Paul 1966**

 

John woke up to Paul sitting up next to him, playing with his hair. His much shorter hair. John had just come back from Spain after filming to an enthusiastic welcome from Paul, who’d been recording a film soundtrack with George Martin. 

 

Paul didn’t look away from his book, “Morning, Johnny.”

 

John recognized that tone, his lover’s voice was deep and authoritative. He leaned into his hand, “Morning, daddy.”

 

Paul smiled in approval. “How did you sleep, darlin’?”

 

John hummed and blinked his eyes, “Very good, daddy.” He wanted to ask the same, but he wasn’t allowed to ask questions.

 

“I want to have fun today.” Paul smiled down at him, “Does that sound good?”

 

John nodded excitedly, “Yes, sir.”

 

Paul stood up, thankfully they were both naked from last night. “Go take a shower while I make breakfast.” He ordered.

 

John hurried to do as told. He went into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly open, and got out his products. Paul was the one with the most things, for his hair and his face and his body...but John had a special shampoo, it smelled beautifully and Paul loved it when he used it. 

 

Sadly, Paul didn’t come in as he showered, but he was outside when John came out. He had breakfast in two trays, laying on the bed.

 

Paul smiled, “I missed you.”

 

John broke character for a moment to smile back and say, “I missed ye too, Macca. A film set is no fun without you.”

 

Paul offered him his juice glass, “I’m sure. But now you’re back, are you ready to be a good boy for me?”

 

John drank his juice, “Yes, daddy.” 

 

They ate their eggs in silence, chewing quickly so they could get to the fun. It was early in the morning, so John was curious about what Paul has planned that had to be so early. 

 

Paul took the trays away after telling John to lie down. His lover did so eagerly, toes curling.

 

Paul came back with his hands behind his back. He leaned over John and smirked, “You’re going to be my toy today, my pretty little slut.”

 

John moaned, “ _ Daddy. _ ” 

 

Paul took advantage that John was not yet hard to take the cock ring he’d selected and slip it on his lover. The metal ring was measured perfectly to fit John, a gift from Paul. 

 

John whined, knowing that Paul surely planned to torture him.

 

Paul grabbed his wrists and brought them up to the headboard, tying them together with their special leather rope and then tied them to the headboard. Then he opened the drawer and took out the lube and a large plug, his favourite. “You wanna be plugged, Johnny?” He laughed at the wanton groan he received in return. He got on the bed and spread his lover’s legs wide, exposing him to his eyes. He briefly thought about eating him out like he had all those months ago, but reminded himself that this day wasn’t about John’s pleasure, it was about Paul’s. So instead he just coated the plug in cold lube and started to push it in.

 

John, despite the lube on the plug, hadn’t really been prepared and he gasped in brief pain. Still, he was so used to something up his hole that he was adjusting in no time.

 

Paul was thinking the same thing in amusement. Then he went for the legs, tying them separately to the bed posts. He looked down at his lover, almost tempted to take him right there right now. But no, he had phone calls to make. 

 

John strained his neck to look at him, “Daddy?”

 

“Daddy has some things to take care of.” Paul said with a quick smile, “See you later, Johnny.” He went into the closet to grab some clothes and then into the bathroom for a quick shower, a cold shower.

 

John was led behind, plugged and locked. He stared up at the ceiling, tugging at his binding experimentally. They didn’t bulge. He sighed and closed his eyes, determined to find comfort in his fantasies. Soon enough he’d actually fallen asleep.

 

Paul came out of the shower to John sleeping, his face peaceful. He laughed, then got a wicked thought. He went into the kitchen and grabbed an ice cube from the icebox. Then he returned to the bedroom, made sure John was deeply sleeping, and placed it on his chest. He positioned it in such a way that once it melted, the cold water would touch John’s nipples. That would surely wake him if the plug up his arse wasn’t enough.

 

Then he left the bedroom and started work on some things he had planned. Mostly double checking Brian and his people’s work. He also had an idea for the new album, a concept album. He got to work happily, knowing John would be there later when he wanted something to screw.

 

* * *

 

John was having a dream, a literal wet dream. Paul was on top of him, dripping ice cold water, it fell down his chest...He gasped awake as the ice cold water hit his nipples, making them perk up. Unconsciously, he pulled at the rope tying his hands. Had Paul done this? The ice cube must have been big because more and more water kept on playing with his sensitive nipples, making him moan. He clenched his hole around the plug, bouncing slightly off the bed in hope that it might shift it. It didn’t.

 

He raised his head and looked around, where the hell was Paul?

 

Paul was currently laughing as he read a letter from his dad, his neighbor had thrown cabbages at a couple of annoying kids again. He was in the living room, work papers in the coffee table in front of him. He wasn’t feeling quite in the mood yet, so he didn’t go and use his toy yet. 

 

His toy was clenching his hands, the cold water making him get aroused. This couldn’t keep going for long, the ring would make it unbearable. He whined at the back of his throat as the water reached his armpits, touching the skin there. He pulled at his restraints, “Daddy!” Maybe this is what Paul wanted, for him to beg. Well, he wouldn’t beg yet but he would happily cry out.

 

Paul frowned as his concentration was disturbed and his pen went askew, ruining the response he was penning to his dad. He shook his head and kept going. 

 

“Daddy!” Came John’s voice again, loud and annoying. 

 

The bassist ignored him as he took out another piece of paper and started to write again. He was starting the actual letter itself when John cried out again-

 

“Dad- Paul!” His lover whined. “Macca, come on!”

 

Paul threw the pen down and stood up with a huff. Being annoying was one thing, but breaking the rules? Unacceptable. He went towards the room but stopped by the utility closet first. They used to have a ball gag, a beautiful red thing, but Martha had found it one day and had her chewy way with it, so duct tape would have to do now. 

 

He entered the room to find John smirking, knowing exactly what he’d done wrong. Boy, he had no idea that Paul wasn’t there to pleasure him. He wasn’t feeling particularly aroused, so he wasn’t going to fuck John yet. 

 

John moved his head to direct his smug look at him, “Problem, daddy?”

 

Paul scoffed and moved to the drawers, looking for something. “Yes, John. A problem with your mouth.”

 

John shifted as Paul went to stand in front of his spread legs, “Aww, don’t be mad, daddy. You left me all alone.” That broke another rule, no long sentences. And less with that tone.

 

Paul just smiled humorlessly and reached to slip the plug off his lover, not stopping before he shoved another, slightly smaller object in. 

 

John knew it well and he whimpered in anticipation. 

 

Paul climbed further on top of him and pinched a wet nipple, making his lover gasp. Immediately, he shoved the plug into John’s mouth. Then, he took the piece of tape he’d ripped off earlier and stuck on his shirt, and put it over John’s mouth and great part of his cheeks. 

 

John wasn’t new to this, so he wasn’t horribly freaked out. There was no way he could choke on the thing, he was well practiced in handling it. Still, he knew Paul wouldn’t leave him like this for too long. Right?

 

Paul patted his cheek, “There, now I can have peace.” He stood up, grabbed the control from the bedside table, and without mercy turned the vibrator to its maximum. 

 

Instantly, John seized up and buckled in his restraints. He let out a muffled scream and raised his head to look at Paul with wide eyes. 

 

Paul raised his eyebrows, “Colour?”

 

There was a moment of hesitation, but John then knocked on the bed once. Green, good.

 

Paul put the control down and went out the door, closing it behind him. He would finish writing to his father, continue with his work, and maybe then he’d get in the mood to fuck his toy.

 

John was writhing on the bed, moaning wantonly and squealing, doing his best to keep the plug horizontal in his mouth. The little device shook inside him, its sound slamming into his ears. He pulled against the rope and rubbed his arse against the bed, but it was for naught. He was sweating and his cock was fully erect now, but he couldn’t come. He howled behind the tape, hoping his daddy would take pity on him. 

 

Paul wouldn’t take pity on him, that’s why he’d left the control in the room. He took his time in writing to his father and made himself a cup of tea before he returned to work. He sipped his tea as he sat down and turned on the television so that the sound might help muffle the sounds of the bed shaking. He couldn’t afford distractions. 

* * *

 

John was a mess when Paul finally came back in and the sight of his wet face was enough to catch his cock’s attention. He grabbed the control from the table and turned it off, watching as John deflated into the bed. His eyes opened and he gazed desperately at Paul. 

 

Paul removed his trousers slowly, “Want me to fuck you, Johnny?”

 

John mewled behind the tape, his head nodding tiredly. 

 

First, Paul removed the tape and took out the plug. “What do we say?”

 

John hissed and swallowed a few times, “Th-thank you, daddy.”

 

“You’re welcome.” Paul said and took his cock out from his boxer briefs. He went around the bed and kneeled in front of John’s spread legs, which were shaking. He reached to take the vibrator off but left the cock ring on. “What do you want, slut?”

 

John moaned, “You, daddy.  _ Please _ .”

 

“You want me inside you?” Paul was rubbing at John’s cock, hardening it more. “You wanna clench that loose hole around me?”

 

John nodded with a whine. 

 

“Okay.” Said Paul simply and, after positioning himself, pushed into John completely, meeting almost no resistance.

 

John smiled as he was filled and screamed as Paul immediately hit his prostate. “Oh,  _ daddy _ .”

 

But Paul wasn’t interested in John right now, only in his hole. He started to slam in and out quickly, his pace furious. He was clutching at the sheets, practically on top of John. 

 

His lover howled in pleasure and frustration. With the ring on, he would never be able to come. Hopefully, Paul would take it off once he’d climaxed. He let out a particularly high pitched squeal after a strong thrust, practically seeing stars. “Oh, yes! Arh, fill me up, daddy!” He screamed out. 

 

Paul was also letting out yells and groans of ecstasy, slipping in and out easily. He’d reached down and was cupping John’s ass cheeks, squeezing them tight. “I’m close.” He groaned out, “Ugh,  _ shit _ , John!” He leaned down to kiss him fiercely as he slammed in a final time and came inside his lover. 

 

John kissed back, pulling at the rope holding his wrists captive. 

 

Paul sighed and slipped out, his cock well and truly spent. 

 

John whimpered, “Please let me come, daddy. I-I’m begging ya.” He widened his eyes. 

 

But Paul only smirked down at him and reached up to take the normal plug from the bedside table. He patted John’s side with his right hand as the left moved down, “Sorry. Sluts don’t get to come.” And he pushed the plug back in. That’s would keep John ready for when Paul decided to come back.

 

John groaned as Paul stood up, “But daddy-!”

 

“I said no, John.” Paul said. “So shut it or I’ll shove the vibrator up your arse again.” He warned, “Do you want that?”

 

John shook his head, “No, daddy.” Though really, he wouldn’t mind if it got him incredibly fucked again. 

 

“That’s what I thought.” Paul said and put his dress trousers on again. He got up and walked towards the door, “Bye, Johnny.”

 

John was left behind again. But he didn’t feel like sleeping this time and his horrible hard on would definitely not allow that, so he started to talk quietly to himself. Occasionally he would move to much and the plug would shift inside him, causing him to gasp. But, apart from his painful erection, it wasn’t a bad time. Still, he really needed Paul to come back. 

 

* * *

 

An hour had passed and it was one in the afternoon. Paul was on the phone with his friend Tara Browne, the younger man saying that he had a new book Paul might like. The Beatle looked at his clock and spoke, “How ‘bout you come over at thirty? Show me the book then.”

 

“That sounds great.” Said the socialite, “I’ll be there. Prepare to be amazed.”

 

Paul chuckled, “Alright, alright. Hurry.” He hanged up and sighed, looking up at the clock. Technically, he had time to shag John quickly… Smirking, he stood up and headed towards the bedroom. 

 

John stopped his conversation as Paul entered. He smiled in what he hoped was innocence, “Hello, daddy.” If he was good his daddy would let him come.

 

Paul smiled wickedly as he unbuttoned his trousers, “Hello, darlin’. You miss me?”

 

John nodded eagerly, “Yes, daddy.”

 

Paul slipped off his boxers with ease and climbed on the bed, “You ready for my cock again?”

 

“Yes, daddy. Please, I’ll be good.” John gasped out as Paul started to lick and nibble at his nipples. 

 

“I wanna fuck your face.” Murmured Paul as he lapped his tongue, “You want that?”

 

John moaned brokenly in return. 

 

Paul laughed quietly, “Of course you do, you little slut.” He moved upwards so that his hard cock was right in John’s face.

 

John started to lick at the tip, straining to reach more. 

 

It was enough to get Paul going and he moved down, hard and deep enough to choke John mildly. But the little cocksucker was used to it, he had practically no gag reflex. 

 

John wasn’t really able to do more that let Paul fuck his mouth, shifting up and down with his hands over John’s restrained ones.

 

“Fuck, your mouth!” Paul groaned, “I should keep you here and call all our friends, let them shove their cocks down your throat.” He said this as he started to pull at John’s hair, “I bet you would like that, wouldn’t ya?”

 

John hummed in agreement, a blush all over his body. His eyes watered as Paul’s cock choked him and he curled his toes as he jumped. 

 

“But no,” Said Paul in a broken voice as he moved, “You’re  _ my _ slut,  _ my _ plaything,  _ my _ fuck toy.” And he went down one more time, climaxing.

 

John moaned as the cum spilled down his throat, the names doing nothing to relieve his aching cock. He swallowed every drop as Paul pulled out, coughing a bit afterwards. 

 

Paul’s chest was rising up and down as he looked at the bedside table clock. He had ten or so minutes before Tara arrived, enough to change John’s position. Variety was good for the soul. 

 

John smiled as Paul moved to untie him, hoping he’d be able to come, but no such thing happened. 

 

Paul sat John up against the headboard and tied his hands to the tall bedposts. Then he grabbed his legs and raised them spread, tying the knees to where the hands were so that his feet were dangling and he was completely exposed. Paul was practically salivating at the sight of his lover’s hole clenched around the plug, his erect cock locked. But he wasn’t finished, John would have to be shut up as Tara visited. 

 

“Wait, daddy-” John was shut up as Paul wrapped more rope around his mouth, stretching his mouth and making sure he couldn’t let out much sound. The rope was long and he connected it to the bedposts as well, keeping John’s head in place. 

 

Paul decided he was having fun using all the ropes they had so he took out a long one and with a wicked smile tied it to the gag then led it downwards, avoiding John’s dick, and brought it around to wrap around John’s crack, pushing the plug in further, caressing his ringed bollocks, and digging between his ass cheeks. Paul tied that to the middle of the headboard and admired his work. 

 

John looked like a fucking piece of art. Leather rope running all over his body and keeping him propped up like a puppet. 

 

His lover stared at him with shocked eyes, the position completely new to them. He certainly wouldn’t be able to sleep like this and would get no closer to coming. 

 

Paul sighed and smiled in satisfaction, “Colour?”

 

John couldn’t move his hands much but he managed to knock once on the bedpost. 

 

Paul was about to speak again when the bell rang, “And that’s my cue.” He tickled the sole of a dangling foot with a grin, “I’ll come back later. Be a good boy.”

 

John whined behind the gag as Paul left the room and locked the door. Who was that? Was Paul hanging out with friends? He tried to rest his head on the headboard but found that the leather rope around his head stopped him from fully doing so. He wriggled his toes instead, really the only part of himself that he could move. He made the mistake of bouncing slightly, causing the rope to push the plug in farther and making him yelp. 

 

John whimpered, when would his daddy be back?

 

* * *

 

Three hours. That’s how long Tara stayed. It was almost five now. Paul waved him goodbye and looked down at he book in his hand, it really had been worth the visit. He went into the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. He thought as he drank, it was probably about time he relieved John? Or at least change his position again, three hours was a lot longer than planned. So he grabbed another glass of water and headed back into the bedroom. 

 

John lifted his eyes from where they had been digging into a blue dot in the comforter and pulled at his restraints when Paul arrived. 

 

Paul removed the rope digging into his ass first, then ungagged him. “How are you, Johnny?” He put the glass of water near John’s mouth. 

 

John drank the whole glass before he spoke, when he did all he could say was, “Da-addy…”

 

Paul sat down next to him, “Can you handle a few hours more?”

 

John was almost tempted to say no so that he could come now, but he wanted to prove himself to his lover. “Ye-es, daddy.” 

 

Paul patted his cheek, “Alright. Don’t worry, I’ll fuck ya again first.”

 

That got John excited, he perked up and wiggled his toes. 

 

Paul took off all his clothes this time, not seeing a reason to get dressed again after when he could put on his night clothes. “Aren’t you an eager little whore?”

 

John mewled, “I’m  _ your _ whore, sir.”

 

Paul grabbed a bunch of his hair and pushed their faces close together, “That’s right.” Then he placed a debilitating kiss on John’s chapped lips. He knelt on the bed before John’s exposed body, “I wanna fuck you like this.”

 

John pulled at the ropes, “Yes, daddy.”

 

With that, Paul removed the plug, set it on the table, and touched himself, getting into position so that he could best take John. He ended up having to take John’s hips and push them upwards to meet his cock. John’s hole was ridiculously loose, Paul could dig in completely on the first thrust. 

 

His lover moaned, “Fuck me, daddy.” He had his eyes closed, “Fuck me  _ hard _ .”

 

Paul obeyed. It was ridiculous how little of the bed was being occupied with both of them shoved into the headboard. He slammed John into the wall repeatedly, each thrust earning him a scream. 

 

“Oh,  _ daddy yes _ !” John screamed, “I’m your slut. Fuck me like your little bitch.” He really had no control over what he was saying anymore. The only thing he could think about was Paul’s cock digging deep inside him. 

 

Paul laughed breathlessly, “Mine, mine…” He muttered over and over again. “I should get you a collar- property of Paul Fuckin’ McCartney.” He groaned in unison with John. 

 

John keened, “I’m your toy, daddy.”

 

Paul reached to untie John’s legs, grabbing the back of his thighs as they fell. “Yes you are.” He growled as John wrapped them around him. 

 

John used this new leverage to make Paul’s thrusts stronger, his moans reaching a pitch he’d never heard from himself before. 

 

Paul felt himself getting close to climaxing so he grabbed ahold of John’s face and kissed him, the taste of cum still present. 

 

John squealed into the kiss as Paul filled him up again, pressing his erection against Paul so that he might take pity on him. His eyes were watery, the need to come enormous. 

 

But Paul wasn’t feeling generous. John had promised him a few more hours and Paul was going to use them. So he slipped out, catched his breath, and got up. He looked down at his lover and ran a hand down his hair, “ _ My plaything _ .” He murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

 

John was too tired out to answer in the affirmative. 

 

Paul gave him time to recollect himself as he went to the bathroom and cleaned himself up. His hair was sweaty and he realized that he needed a shower, so he decided to take one. John couldn’t go anywhere seeing as his wrists were still bound. 

 

Paul left the bathroom after a short but thorough shower and went into the closet. As he did so, he smirked. He had planned to get on his nightclothes and stay in the house but he figured he could do more than that in a few hours…

 

When he came, fully dressed, it was to the sight of John kneeling on the bed with his bound arms around stretched behind him.

 

John saw he was dressed to go out and whined, “Daddy, Daddy please let me come,  _ please _ .” 

 

But Paul only shook his head and looked at him, not knowing how to tie him up.

 

John stared at him with scared eyes, “Da-Daddy?” Surely Paul wouldn’t leave him without coming, not again.

 

The bassist chuckled as he went to untie John’s hands. Then he grabbed his lover and flipped him over that he he was face down on the bed. He got rid of the rope and took out handcuffs instead, once again tying hands to the bedposts. He did the same with his legs, leaving him spread out. But he knew John could rub at his cock in the position, so he took his hips and raised them up.

 

John had to hold himself up now and he groaned.

 

But Paul wasn’t that cruel, he couldn’t expect John to hold this position for hours. So he grabbed the long rope, tied it around John’s hips and and between his legs then tied that to the roof of the bed. He knew buying a bed with a little roof would be worth it someday. He spanked John, causing him to squeal lightly, and went to retrieve the vibrator. He wouldn’t put it at maximum this time but certainly high, shame he couldn’t control it from afar. It went in easily on John and he tapped it a few times to see his lover jump. 

 

John couldn’t really see him, facing down as he was, but he felt Paul running a hand through his hair. 

 

“You want to be gagged or not?” Paul decided to give him a choice.

 

John shuddered, which was the option that would make Paul take pity on him? “Gagged, sir.”

 

Paul pulled at his hair, “Good boy.” Deciding the duct tape wouldn’t go with the whole look, Paul went into his closet and looked for something else. A belt or a tie could work...Ah yes, perfect. He went back into the room, “Hold your head up, slut.” He ordered.

 

John did as told with a moan. 

 

Paul was thankful for John’s small mouth as he shoved a pair of panties inside, the fabric being enough to muffle him. Still, he grabbed a tie and wrapped it around his head to make sure John couldn’t/wouldn’t spit it out. He patted his lover’s head, “All done. So pretty for me, Johnny.”

 

John tried to move his hips to show that he needed release but they were kept still by the rope. He whined like a puppy and made Paul laugh. 

 

The bassist shrugged on his blazer, “I’ll be back in a couple hours, be good.” He grabbed the control of the vibrator and set it mildly high.

 

John swung forwards immediately, his body pulling at the restraints. He let out a muffled curse and shut his eyes.

 

Paul smirked, John was exactly where he belonged.

 

* * *

 

It was almost two hours later when Paul came back. He had gone to a little pub and played a few tunes, knowing that if he went to a club he wouldn’t be out of it until morning. 

 

He whistled as he entered his home and took off his coat. He saw Martha sleeping next to the coffee table, her enormous body shuddering with doggy snores. 

 

Speaking of doggy...Paul hurried up the stairs. He’d had a few drinks and was ready to have a go at his toy again. Probably the last time for today.

 

John was moaning like a whore behind the gag when Paul walked in. He was shaking and pulling at the cuffs, curling his toes, clenching his ass around the little vibrator. 

 

Paul admired him for a few moments, grateful that he had John. They trusted only each other to play games like this. He walked towards John and raised his head with a firm hand, “Hello, Johnny.”

 

John was crying, eyes desperate and wide. He said something that vaguely resembled a please behind the gag.

 

Paul untied the tie and took out the panties, “Beg for me.”

 

John gasped out, “Please fuck me, sir!” He sobbed, “Please, I need ya!”

 

Paul started to remove his clothes, “You really are my whore, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes, Daddy. Fill me up like a whore!” John cried out. It was nighttime, Paul had to let him come! 

 

Paul removed the vibrator and threw it away towards the floor, “Alright.” And he pushed in with a harsh thrust.

 

John wailed and moaned as Paul fucked him, panting as he swung in the rope.

 

Paul set a fierce pace, groaning and pulling at John’s hair. He called him names, gripped at his thighs hard enough to leave bruises, and made love to him. 

 

John was in agony. “ _ Please _ !” He begged, “Let me come, daddy!”

 

Paul didn’t listen to him just yet.

 

The other man kept begging and sobbing, hands gripping the handcuffs and turning red. 

 

Finally, when he felt himself close, Paul reached down and unlocked the metal ring, throwing it at the floor. He slammed into John’s prostate and made him scream, “Come for me, Johnny.” He growled.

 

John did, sobbing as he did. It felt glorious after nearly ten hours or more of torture. He went limp.

 

Paul continued to fuck him, thrusting hard until he climaxed then rode it out. For a moment he was actually worried he’d made John bleed with his strength, so he was quick to stand up and get a towel to clean them up.

 

John was left hanging from the the ropes, close to passing out. That had to be the best orgasm he’d ever had or ever would have.

 

Paul came back and cleaned him up, checking to see if he was alright. He signed in relief, John wasn’t bleeding though his hole looked a right mess. He placed a soft kiss on his bum and untied him, catching John as he slumped. Paul set him down gently and freed his appendages, rubbing at his ankles and wrists. “Are you okay, Johnny?”

 

John raised a shaky hand and gave him a thumbs up.

 

Paul laughed and lied down next to him, drawing John into his arms.

 

John snuggled close, “I love you, daddy. Thank you.”

 

Paul kissed his forehead, “I love ya, darlin’.”

 

They fell asleep. Needless to say, John wasn’t able to walk or sit anywhere the next day. But that was fine, he loved being Paul’s plaything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM HAPPY TO ANNOUNCE THAT THE NEXT CHAPTER OF THE FOOL BY THE SEASIDE IS ALMOST FINISHED. I rewrote the damn thing like twenty times but it’s coming guys. Definitely no later than this weekend.


	8. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot more fluff than smut in this one I think. Or at least very balanced. Idk. C8 hope u like.

**Harry 1974**

 

John was flirting and Harry saw red. 

 

The two had met many months ago now and had become lovers a couple of months or so ago. It had started with desperate humping at clubs, then enthuatiatic hand jobs inside closets, then risky blow jobs at the studio, but they had never gone all the way. It was more Harry’s pause than John’s. John had been with a man before while Harry had never even considered it. But John was something completely different, a confident soul lost in the abyss of loneliness much like Harry. The two had sound each other and in music and sex had found each other. Except it wasn’t just sex, there was a connection between them. A connection John was disrespecting right now. He was practically in that old man’s lap, giggling like a mad man. Drink in hand, John was running a fine hand on the man’s chest, leaning close. And the old man was doing nothing to discourage him, with one hand on John’s thigh and another on his waist. 

 

Harry stood up and stomped towards them. 

 

The old man looked up with a grimace, “Can I help you?”

 

John just giggled quietly.

 

Harry glared, “That’s my man you’ve got on your lap.”

 

The old man, renamed Stinky, huffed and took a hold of John’s chin, “Oh, I don’t think so. This one is all mine.” Then he pulled John into a searing kiss.

 

Seeing John’s disgusted face was enough to tear down the barriers holding Harry’s anger at bay. He grabbed John’s arm and ripped him away, punching the old man’s face as soon as John was out of the way. Hearing his lover giggle, Harry turned around and grabbed his arm again, “Oh, I’m not done with you.” He growled.

 

John’s eyes widened, “But I didn’t do anything!” He protested, taking another sip of his drink.

 

“That’s right. So now I have to do something,” He stepped close and took ahold of John’s waist, “to show everywhere here who you belong to.”

 

John gulped. He yelped as he was grabbed by the waist and moved to the table, drinks spilling as Harry laid him down and climbed on top of him. John heard people laughing and gasping, he smirked at the man above him, “You always seemed like an exhibionist.” 

 

Harry smirked back as he unzipped his trousers and took out a condom from his back pocket. They had never done this but now it was time.

 

John wasn’t complaining. He reached down to unzip his own jeans, shoving them down quickly and spreading his legs as far as he could. Good thing he’d forgone underwear today. He knew if someone took a picture it would be an scandal, but there was a heat in his veins that wouldn’t die off until Harry made John his. In front of all these people.

 

There was nothing to prepare John, so Harry brought his fingers up to John’s face.

 

The man took the fingers into his small mouth and sucked, his eyes never leaving Harry’s. He heard a couple of whistles from the people around them. This would give them all plenty of wank material.

 

Harry pushed his finger far down John’s throat, watching his eyes water. He took his fingers out and grabbed John’s face, pulling him in for a kiss.

 

John moaned wantonly as he was snogged, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. They stopped and he buried below Harry’s chin, licking stripes of skin and making his lover groan. He leaned up and nibbled an ear. “ _ Take me. _ ” He whispered, “Make me yours.”

 

Harry grinned and pushed back down into the table. There were spectators all around them, cheering them on.

 

John’s long hair fanned out, getting wet on some spilled whiskey.

 

Harry rolled on the condom and spat on his fingers for good measure. Slowly, after an encouraging and needy smile from John, he gently inserted one finger.

 

John hummed with pleasure and clenched his hands.

 

A man shouted, “Put in another!” It was followed by cheers. How they could see anything in the dark club was beyond him.

 

John laughed and wiggles his eyebrows at Harry, “The people have spoken.”

 

Harry added another and then another. He scissored them and made John moan, smirking as he did. His confidence was growing. He could do this, he could fuck another man. His man.

 

John let out a whine as the fingers were removed but groaned as Harry’s dick replaced them. 

 

People cheered and got closer. Harry was slapped in the back, making him push further in and making John jump.

 

Harry moves himself do that he was totally on top of the ex-Beatle and smiled, “You good?”

 

John growled and clenched around him, “ _ Move _ .”

 

Harry indulged him, the weak table wobbling as they moved. John felt wonderful around him and it felt like being under Harry was exactly where he belonged. He forgot about his wife and all other girls, John was the best he’d ever had. 

 

John let out a high pitched moan, they kind only Yoko had ever gotten out of him. But mother wasn’t here now, Harry was. Very much  _ in there _ .

 

Harry gasped as the table almost fell over after a hard thrust that had John mewling, but a nice club goer grabbed the table and held it up for them. 

 

John buried his hands in Harry’s hair and pulled. “ _ Harder _ .” He moaned.

 

Harry reared his hands on either side of John’s head, thrusting with abandon. He looked up to see some other couples going at it as well, while others were just cheering them on and enjoying the show. He laughed and shook his head, only in L.A.

 

John whimpered as some stranger pulled at his hair and he arched his back. “Harry, I’m close.”

 

“Me too, babe.” Harry moaned, “God, you’re tight!”

 

John wished he could wrap his legs around Harry’s body but the jeans around his lower legs were stopping him. “Hey you!” He shouted at the person playing with his hair (he couldn’t blame them, it  _ was _ very soft), “Take off my jeans, yeah?”

 

The man moaned and nodded, “Oh yes, Mistah Lennon!”

 

As soon as his legs were free, John wrapped them around Harry and and held him closer to his body. “Faster, Harry!”

 

Harry growled and did as told, pushing his cock in and out of John, thrusting in with great strength.

 

With a shout, John came, spilling all over himself, Harry, and the table. He heard cheers all around him and laughed.

 

Harry loved John’s laugh. He went over the edge and spilled into the condom, riding the high out. 

 

John sat up, Harry’s cock still buried inside him. “How was that then?” He clenched around the spent appendage.

 

Harry sighed, took a handful of his hair, and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. 

 

John responded in kind, hugging Harry close with his legs.

 

The American pulled out and removed the condom, throwing it at a pile of trash in the floor. “Bet ya someone is gonna steal that.”

 

John giggled and crossed his bare legs. “I can’t believe you fucked me in a club.”

 

A sweaty girl appeared from behind him, “Neither can I! I love L.A.!” Then she turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

 

John turned to his lover with raised eyebrows, “Okay..?”

 

Harry shrugged, “You get us all hard, babe.”

 

“And don’t you forget it, you prick.” John stood up and looked for his jeans, “Where the hell are my trousers?”

 

Harry burst out laughing, “That kid probably stole them.”

 

John sighed but he was smiling. He hit Harry’s shoulder, “Fuck off. How the hell am I supposed to walk home?”

 

Harry couldn’t deny the skip his heart gave at John calling their shared, messy house home. He pulled him close, “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll cover your dignity.” He reached down and slapped one ass cheek, “Though it’s a shame to keep this hidden.”

 

John smiled smugly, “I know.”

 

Harry leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on his nose, enjoying seeing it wrinkle. “You’re a pain the ass, you know that?”

 

John scoffed, “Me? I’ll be walking funny tomorrow because of you.”

 

Harry smirked as he moved away and removed his coat, “Good.” He put the coat around John, it’s length covering him, “There you go.”

 

John smiled softly at him. “Thank you, Harry.” He said sincerely, “For everything. You’re all I have.”

 

Harry felt a lump on his throat, “So are you. For me.” He offered his hand, “Come on, let’s go home.”

 

John took it with a smile, “Home.”

 


	9. The Beatles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all its a gangbang.

**The Beatles 1964**

 

As he sat on top of George with Paul behind him and Ringo in front of him, John considered how this situation came to be.

 

He had been drawing caricatures of the press that night when Paul had arrived behind him and started to massage his shoulders. 

 

John started, “Shit, Paul! Give a man a warning.”

 

Paul laughed, “I’d rather scare you.”

 

John returned to his drawings, “What do you want, Macca?”

 

Paul leaned down to whisper in his ear, his warm breath tickling his ear, “I want ya, Johnny.”

 

John shivered. He put down his pencil, “Now?”

 

Paul bit his ear and pulled, “Yes, now.” He wrapped his arms around John and rested his chin on his boyfriend’s head. “Interested?”

 

John smiled up at him, “Always.”

 

Paul smirked and went around the sofa. He stood in front of John and the older man opened his legs so that he could stand between them.

 

John looked up expectantly at Paul, feeling himself harden at just merely the idea of what they were about to do.

 

Paul took his chin in hand and admired his lover, that aquiline nose, those narrowed eyes...perfection. He ran a finger over a warm cheek, “I love ya.”

 

John closed his eyes, “Same here.”

 

Paul leaned down and kissed him, deepening the kiss as he knelt in the cushions between John’s thighs. “I’m gonna fuck you right here in this couch.”

 

“Woah.” Came a startled voice.

 

Paul turned around with a snap and tripped, falling into John’s lap. 

 

The drummer was standing there with George, gaping at the two.

 

Paul stood up and brushed his jacket, “Hello, lads.”

 

John waved an embarrassed hand.

 

Ringo coughed, “We were just, coming up from dinner. Weren’t we, George?”

 

George was red, “Um, yes.”

 

Paul forced a laugh, “That’s good. Dinner, yeah.”

 

John rubbed his hands anxiously, “You didn’t hear anything, did ya?”

 

George let out a chuckle, “Oh we did. Fucking in the couch, disgusting.”

 

Paul glared, “Sod off.” He smirked then, “Johnny likes it in risky places.”

 

John spluttered, “That’s you!”

 

George shook his head, “Well do be quiet then.”

 

Paul took John’s chin in hand, “That’s up to Johnny here.”

 

“Isn’t it up to you if you’re the one making him scream?” Asked Ringo innocently.

 

John spluttered, “Excuse me?”

 

In that moment Paul got an idea, “Maybe not.” He said with a smirk, “Maybe it’s you.”

 

There was a silence.

 

John spoke up, “Um, what?”

 

Paul walked around to stand behind John. He ran his hands down his boyfriend’s body, “Come on, lads. Don’t tell me Johnny doesn’t get you all hot and dirty.” He leaned down to bite on his ear, causing the older man to shut his eyes and moan. “He’s the best laid you’ll ever get, believe me.”

 

George couldn’t deny the twitch of his cock at the words. “But, we’re not queer.”

 

Paul laughed, “You sure about that?” To John he whispered, “Get undressed, baby.”

 

His boyfriend stood up and obeyed, he started with his shirt first, then his shoes, then his trousers…

 

Ringo and George were watching, mouths watering as more and more skin was revealed. 

 

Finally John was bare and blushing under their stares. Paul ran a hand down his side and he relaxed submissively. 

 

Paul rested his hand in the curve of his arse, “Isn’t he lovely?”

 

Ringo took a small step forwards, “I’m in.”

 

Paul smirked, “Georgie?”

 

The guitarist licked his lips as John gave him a hooded gaze.

 

“Come here.” Paul waved him over. Once George was in front of him, Paul got behind him and started to caress his shoulders. “Maybe you need to sample Johnny’s skills?”

 

George gasped as John fell to his knees in front of him.

 

The older man smirked up at him and started to rub his nose against George’s clothed cock. He mouthed at the appendage and licked at the clothing.

 

Ringo came closer to better watch, he was getting aroused by just watching.

 

George lost his breath as John took the zipper between his teeth and dragged it down, then unbuttoned the pants with his tongue, a trick he’d always been proud of. 

 

John looked at his boyfriend, “Can I take him, Paulie?”

 

Paul nodded with a small smile, “Go ahead, baby.”

 

John pushed down the trousers along with the underwear immediately, allowed for his bandmate’s pulsing cock to spring up. With no more words John took George far into his mouth in one go.

 

George grabbed his hair to stabilize himself.

 

Ringo was removing his trousers too, fully on board with the happenings.

 

Paul disappeared briefly into the bedroom to grab their bottle of lube and upon returning, gave it to Ringo.

 

The drummer frowned, “What’s this for?”

 

“Get him ready.” Said Paul. At his friend’s confusion, Paul sighed, “Finger him.”

 

“Oh.” Ringo said. He looked at the kneeling man, currently bobbing his head up and down George’s dick. “Right now?”

 

Paul smirked, “Right now.” He affirmed.

 

John moaned around George’s dick as he felt a wet finger circle his entrance. He pushed up his ass as he took George in deeper. He was teasing the guitarist, not wanting him to come just yet. He whimpered as a ring got past the rim.

 

Meanwhile, Paul was making sure they were all properly undressed. He removed George’s blazer and shirt, same with Ringo’s, then divested himself from his clothing. He saw that Ringo had two fingers in and grinned, “You can put in more, can’t he, Johnny?” He said this as he played with John’s hair and pulled him off George.

 

The guitarist groaned at the loss.

 

John looked up at his boyfriend, “Yes.” He said in a hoarse voice.

 

“Hands and knees.” Paul ordered and John did as told.

 

Ringo applies more lube to his hand before adding a third finger, which John took in with a high pitched sigh.

 

Paul turned to George, “Lay down, he’ll be ready soon.”

 

George hurried to lay down on the carpet, his erection very much present still. He fisted his hands around the carpet, needing something to hold on to.

 

Paul ran a hand down his lover’s back, making him shiver. “One more?” He asked. John needed to be well stretched for what he planned to do.

 

John mewled, “ _ Please. _ ”

 

Ringo had a hand on John’s thigh, rubbing circles with his fingers. He put in his fourth finger and scissored them. John moaned and pushed back into his hand.

 

Paul knelt in front of him and took his chin in hand and leaned in for a searing kiss. He savoured John’s mouth, tasting George on him. The bassist moved away, holding on to John’s lower lip with his teeth. “Good?”

 

John nodded quickly, “Thank you.”

 

Paul smiled at the words. 

 

Then John gasped as Ringo curled his fingers inside him and added his thumb. “Oh  _ Ringo!” _

 

Encouraged, Ringo fisted his hand.

 

Paul was vaguely worried over John but one look at his lover’s blissed out expression was enough to calm him down. 

 

Ringo took his hand out and massaged John’s back. He looked up at Paul, “Now what?”

 

Paul looked at the three of them, “Now we get to the main event.” He directed his gaze at John then at George.

 

His lover understood and he crawled to the sprawled guitarist eagerly. He strangled George, his ass rubbing against his red cock.

 

George moaned wantonly, “G-god!” He choked out.

 

Paul smirked, “What do you want, Georgie? You wanna fuck him? You want him to ride you?”

 

George let out a broken sigh, “ _ Please _ .”

 

John leaned down to place a chaste kiss on the younger man’s throat before he raised himself up and expertly positioned himself. 

 

Ringo reached down to stroke himself at the scene.

 

Slowly, John moved down, moaning as he did so.

 

George was moaning along, relishing in John’s warmth.

 

Paul crawled over to them and pushed John further down, making him cry out. Paul looked down at George, “Is he tight?”

 

George shook his head, “Still, still great though.”

 

Paul laughed and grabbed John’s chin, pushing his thumb into his mouth. “I know.” As John sucked on his thumb, Paul turned to their drummer, “Come ‘ere, lad. It’s your turn to test his gag reflex.”

 

Ringo hurried to reach them but stopped once he was next to them. “Do I, do I just kneel on top of George?”

 

The guitarist let out a strangled gasp.

 

John spoke up, “Standing would be better.”

 

Ringo did as told, his feet planted next to George’s head. He moaned as John leaned up and licked up his length.

 

Paul stepped away and decided to enjoy the show. “Well? Are you just going to sit there?” He asked them.

 

John was the first to act, he took Ringo’s length, feeling his small mouth stretch around it. He squealed as George thrusted upwards, making him buckle into Ringo.

 

Paul tutted, “Now don’t make George do all the work, Johnny. Ride him.”

 

John hummed his ascent and started to move his hips up and down in rhythm with his head. 

 

Ringo and George let out gasps and groans as they were pleasured. John was like their sex toy, they didn’t have to do anything other than stand and lay down.

 

Paul moved to kneel behind John and leaned close to lick at his earlobe, “You ready, baby? You want me?”

 

John hummed loudly around Ringo’s cock, his eyes watering as the drummer pushed in deep. He was ready for Paul, he  _ needed  _ him.

 

Paul grabbed the lube and applied a generous amount on his erection, knowing this position was a new one for John. But he trusted his lover to be honest. He positioned himself behind John and gently started to push in.

 

John shrieked at the back of his throat as Paul’s dick joined George’s. He’d never been so stretched before, not even with two dildos shoved up his ass. 

 

George also moaned as John became tighter, reaching up to grasp at Ringo’s calves.

 

Paul was fully in now and he caressed John’s sweaty hair, “You good for me to move, baby?”

 

John moaned wantonly in response. 

 

Paul moves out and thrusted in quick, causing John to bounce and bury his face in Ringo’s pubic hair.

 

Paul laughed, “Okay, boys. Let’s start the party.”

 

For the great part of the next hour, an array of moans, screams, and squeals could be heard coming from the Beatles’ suite. Ringo thrusted in and out of John’s mouth with abandon in time with Paul pushing his cock deep inside John. George was also thrusted upwards like crazy, determined to make John come by their movements alone.

 

John was being held up by their hands, his body limp with pleasure and exhaustion. His legs were widely spread and his tongue was running wild across Ringo’s length. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily through his mouth. He was close, he could feel it. He wanted to touch himself, but Paul was holding his hands behind his back, hauling his arms like reins. 

 

George was the first to come, filling John up as he reached up to pinch his nipples, making John scream. The guitarist twisted the nuns as he rode out his orgasm before he collapsed into the carpet with exhaustion.

 

Paul grasper his lover and lifted him off George, raising him up to better reach his prostate and to also Ringo to grasp John’s head and move it along.

 

The drummer came soon after, spilling down John’s throat. John made sure to swallow every drop and to lick Ringo clean. He looked up at the drummer with wet eyes, his body still bouncing with the force of Paul’s thrusts. “Did you like that?” He choked out.

 

Ringo laughed and fell next to George, “Best I’ve ever had.”

 

Paul laughed along and with one final thrust, he came into John. His boyfriend climaxed with him, shooting across George’s chest and the carpet. 

 

After a wet suck on John’s neck, Paul pulled out and fell on the carpet right next to the couch.

 

Their sex toy fell on top of them all, pleasure tears in his face and two men’s cum leaking out of his ass. “Holy shit.” John whispered. 

 

George wanted to chuckle but he was too shocked and tired.

 

Ringo took initiative and arranged the bodies so that they could rest. John curled up with Paul’s arms around him. They were facing a sprawled out George who was also holding John’s waist. Ringo grabbed a cloth and carefully started to clean John. 

 

John smiled tiredly at him, “Thanks.”

 

Ringo stood up to put the cloth away after caressing John’s thigh. “Thank  _ you _ .”

 

And the four Beatles fell asleep holding each other.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first time writing a gangbang. might do another one once im better idk. 
> 
> tell me if u liked it!


	10. Elvis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was requested in the comments. I hope u like it.

**Elvis 1964**

  
  


“Seriously Brian, where are we going?” John asked. The two of them were in a limo, without the other three.

 

“It’s a surprise.” His manager said.

 

John looked out the window, “Just for me?”

 

Brian smiled, “Just for you.”

 

Finally, the limo pulled up outside an expensive looking club. The two of them got out and the doors were opened for them. They walked past tables and games, pass bars and couches, until they reached a door marked ‘Private.’

 

Brian opened the door for John, “After you.”

 

The singer was curious as he walked in. The room was a special bar with many chairs and sofas around it. Middle aged men sat around with drinks. There was a huddled group of men dressed in finery and in the middle was...Elvis. John could faint, Elvis Presley was sat there in the middle staring straight at him.

 

Brian put a calming hand on his back and led him forward. They stopped in front of the King’s entourage. 

 

A short man stood up and shook both their hands, “Donald Jameson. Mr. Presley, these are John Lennon of the Beatles and his manager Mr. Brian Epstein.”

 

The king gave a lazy grin, “Sit down.” He waved a hand and two seats near him were cleared, “Want a drink?”

 

“Whiskey, please.” Brian Said and nudged John.

 

The young man stuttered, “Scotch and coke, ta.”

 

They both got their drinks and conversation resumed. Brian was talking business all over and Elvis turned to laugh with his friends, John was quiet. He didn’t know anyone and was too nervous to try and talk to Elvis or his friends. He just drank and fidgeted with his hands.

 

Brian stood up all of sudden, “What do you think, gentlemen? A round of poker?”

 

The men around them cheered and began to stand. The poker tables were outside the private room. John went to stand but Brian pushed him down.

 

“Eppy?” John asked.

 

Brian winked, “Stay here.”

 

John obeyed and the room cleared out. He jumped as a smooth voice behind him spoke.

 

“Want a refill?”

 

John turned to see Elvis standing with a hand outstretched. He swallowed and offered his glass, “Ta.”

 

John saw Elvis walk away, giving him ample view of his behind. 

 

“Like what you see?” The older man called out over his shoulder.

 

John blushed and said nothing. He grabbed the offered drink but stiffened as the man sat right next to him. 

 

Elvis took a sip of his peach brandy and stared at the young man in front of him. “I saw you with Ed Sullivan.”

 

John willed his hands to stop shaking. “I know.”

 

“Your band is good, you bring something new to the game.”

 

John smiled. He knew that already and the compliment wasn’t that high, but coming from his idol it meant everything. 

 

“Your playing is phenomenal.”

 

John frowned and looked up at him, “Really?”

 

The man laughed, “I wouldn’t lie. And I gotta admit, I prefer you singing Rock n Roll music to Berry.”

 

John gasped, “Why are you being so nice?”

 

The older man leaned close, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

John looked down.

 

And then, the unexpected. John felt a strong hand on his knee.

 

“Truly, kid.” Elvis whispered to him, “You’ve got talent.” He ran the hand up his leg.

 

John’s breath stuttered as the hand squeezed his thigh. “I-I…”

 

The older man hushed him, “Shhh, it’s okay.” And he leaned close.

 

John melted into the kiss. His idol’s lips were firm and overpowering. He put up no fight as he was dragged into the King’s lap and he wrapped his arms around Elvis’ neck. He moaned as a tongue slipped into his mouth and battled his into submission.

 

Elvis pulled away and buried his face in John’s neck, biting and sucking harshly. “I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you in that show.”

 

John angles his head to give him maximum space, “I’ve been thinking about this since I first heard your voice.” Elvis was his teenage dream, a poster of him was right above his bed to keep him warm at night.

 

Elvis started to push him down, between his spread legs. 

 

John took initiative and ran a hand down Elvis’ chest until he reached his crotch, then he pressed down and received a gasp in return. He got to work unbuttoning the dark tight jeans and pulling the man’s cock out of his pants. It was thick and long and it made John’s mouth water.

 

The older man ran a finger over John’s lips, “Wanna show me how talented that mouth is?”

 

John bit lightly at the finger and grinned. He rested his hand on the firm thighs holding him close as he took the hard cock into his mouth. His mouth  _ was  _ very talented and he got to work. 

 

Elvis pulled at his hair and squeezed his body with his thighs as the younger man worshipped his cock, his warm tongue swirling all over as he pulled in and out of the cock.

 

“I’m  _ close _ , baby.” The king growled out.

 

John moaned as the cock was thrusted in deep and he sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing. The warm substance spilled down his throat and John felt like he was in heaven. How many times had he dreamed of this? And now here he was.

 

Elvis pulled out and looked at the wrecked looking boy kneeling in front of him. His lips were red and wet, as well as his eyes. The Liverpudlian was looking up at him with devoted eyes. Elvis smirked and took him by the hips, “It’s your turn, kid.” 

 

John cried out in surprise as he was practically thrown on a fainting couch, his eyes wide as Elvis crawled on top of him. He was shaking in excitement and lust. He went to touch Elvis’ face but the older man took his wrists and slammed them against the sofa. 

 

Elvis laughed, “No, hold still for me, baby.”

 

John nodded obediently and was rewarded with a passionate kiss. He whimpered as the man moved away but shook as Elvis moved down.

 

Soon, the Beatle’s trousers were off and on the floor, followed quickly by his underpants. Elvis admired the boy’s thighs and bit down on them.

 

John moaned and thrusted up in reflex. “Pl-please,” He whispered, “Please touch me.”

 

But Elvis had another thing in mind. He licked and bit up John’s thighs, but he forewent his cock for something lower.

 

John gasped as a warm tongue licked at his entrance. “ _ Oh. _ ”

 

Elvis licked and kissed at the rim, slipping his tongue inside briefly. 

 

John has hidden his hands underneath his body, desperate to obey Elvis’ wishes. He mewled and moaned as he was eaten out, his hole clenching desperately whenever the older man ventured further in. His legs were high and spread and as much as he was enjoying this, he needed more. “Fuck me.” He choked out, “ _ Please.” _

 

Elvis chuckled at the broken sound and slurped at the red hole, receiving a cry in return. “You sure?”

 

John growled in frustration, “Yes!”

 

The older man moved away and ran his hands over the boy’s thighs, “Impatient.” He tutted.

 

John was shaking under his hands, “Please.” He whimpered. He was putty in Elvis’ hands. 

 

The other man was hard again and was also eager, so he didn’t want to drag it out either. He did leaned up and down to whisper in the boy’s ear first, “Scream for me, show me how loud you can be.”

 

John shivered at the words but nodded obediently.

 

Elvis angled himself and pushed in completely with a strong thrust.

 

John screamed in ecstasy and pain. He gasped out as he got used to the feeling, but didn’t have much time to adjust before the man got to work pulling in and out. Soon a hard pace was set, the king moving savagely. True to his word, John howled and shrieked, straining his throat to demonstrate his pleasure.

 

Elvis pulled John’s arms from underneath his body and slammed his wrist over his head, his hips violently thrusting in and out. 

 

John was in cloud nine. He had dreamed of this very same scenario for almost a decade, it was everything he had hoped for and more. So much more. 

 

Elvis knew the moment he had seen the kid that he was going to be the perfect lay, that’s why he had arranged the meeting. And he had been right. The boy was tight and warm and perfect.

 

John howled as he came, his back bending.

 

But Elvis was done yet, he kept thrusting and grunting. 

 

John felt close to passing out and the last thing he saw was the other man’s eyes close and felt his seed spill inside him.

 

John woke up on the fainting couch, a large leather jacket covering his bare body. He blinked and looked around. He saw Elvis getting dressed and frowned, “You’re, erm, leaving?”

 

The older man turned to him, “Places to be, kid.”

 

John hummed, “Yeah.” It’s not like he had expected him to stay. He offered a shy smile, “Can I at least have a kiss? To remember?” Soon he would be back in the hotel and all the nerves and butterflies would disappear, but in front of the King, John was wreck.

 

Elvis chuckled and walked to him. He put his strong hands on John cheeks and dragged him up for a searing kiss. John went limp in his arms, wishing to stay in this moment forever.

 

Elvis stepped away and caressed the boy’s neck, it was red and covered in hickeys. “These should help too.”

 

John giggled. Yes, they would.

 

Elvis ran a hand down his arm, “Keep the jacket.”

 

John held it close, “Ta.” He smiled.

 

And then Elvis was gone.

 

John stared after him and sighed in content. He fell back into the sofa and looked at the ceiling. John giggled, he couldn’t believe that had just happened to him. He curled up happily. Brian would come pick him up soon, but for now he was resting with Elvis’ jacket on top of him and he wanted nothing more.


	11. Ringo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> -crossdressing  
> -orgasm delay  
> -humiliation 
> 
> But it’s all good

**Ringo 1966**

 

John had probably never been more stressed. The hectic tour was taking its toll on him and his mood. One night, he’d grown so upset by what the press where saying that he’d snapped at Ringo.

 

“Shit, just shut up! I don’t care!”

 

There was silence. Ringo has been telling what he thought was a funny story in order to distract John and make him feel better. Clearly, it hadn’t worked.

 

John looked down in shame. “Sorry.”

 

Ringo stood up from his place in the couch and walked over to John, looking down at him. Without saying anything, he smirked.

 

John gulped, “Ri-ringo?”

 

But the man just patted his cheek and went into his room, leaving John behind. He knew he would get punished…

 

But how?

* * *

 

It became apparent the next morning, when John was woken up by a hand running through his hair.

 

“Wake up, baby.” Said Ringo, “I’ve a present for you.”

 

John blinked his eyes open and squinted.

 

Ringo was holding a large-ish box, the kind posh salesmen give you at posh stores. 

 

The younger man sat up, “Oh?”

 

Ringo gave him the box, “We’re all alone today, you and I. You are going to wear this and you will address me as ‘Master.’”

 

John shivered and nodded, “Yes...Master.”

 

“I’ll leave you to get ready.” Ringo said, “I’ll be waiting. Oh and John? No underwear.” And he walked out, closing the door behind him.

 

After taking a deep breath, John removed the lid from the box and took out his present.

 

John gasped. It was a dress, a baby pink ruffled dress made of some shiny cloth. A giant pink bow decorated the neckline and the sleeves were made of a different cloth, with tiny bows on the ruffled edges. They were bunched up and see through. The chest area was small and John had no doubt that the skirt would actually begin right below his nipples. The skirt itself had at least three layers, all fluffy and pink and filled with bows. Beneath the dress were two white stockings that bore bows as well, and a heeled pair of black shoes that might belong to a uniform. He blushed the more he looked at it, so this was his punishment.

 

John sighed, for he knew he had to put it on. He got out of bed and into the bathroom. He had a bath and a shave before he started to put it on. 

 

It was itchy in some parts and restricting in others. The sleeves did not allow him to lift his arms much and his neck was held high and straight by the bowed neckline. The skirt barely covered his ass and jumped as he moved, it was so fluffy he looked either really fat or pregnant. He put on the stockings and slipped his feet into the black heels shivering as a cold breeze got between his legs. The man blushed all over as he examined himself in the mirror, really hoping that Ringo hadn’t been lying when he said nobody else was in the suite.

 

Slowly, he went out the door. Ringo’s eyes were quick to find him and a smirk appeared on the drummers face. He stood up and went towards John, circling him in appreciation. Finally, he stopped behind the younger man and sneaked a hand up the dress to rest in on the curve of John’s arse. “What do we say?” Ringo asked. 

 

John twitched, then gasped as a slap was delivered to the cheek. 

 

“I asked, ‘What do we say?.” Ringo repeated. 

 

John shivered, “Thank you, master.”

 

Ringo used the hand on his bum to push him towards the sofa, “Come on, baby girl, we’re going to watch a film.”

 

John shook at the name but frowned as Richard sat down and spread his legs. Did he want John to suck his cock?

 

But the drummer only patted his lap, “Come sit here, baby.”

 

John did as told. Indeed, the dress flared out so it was John’s bare ass resting on Ringo’s trousers. He was quiet in anticipation, waiting for Ringo to strike. 

 

His lover picked up the remote and pressed play to begin the movie. “Spread your legs for me, baby girl.”

 

John slowly did as told, keeping his hands pressed to the dress. 

 

The movie started and for quite a few minutes, the two of them watched it. John was just getting into the plot when a finger brushed his rim and he gasped. “Master…”

 

Ringo hushed him, his finger still playing with John’s hole. “Be quiet and watch the film.”

 

John whimpered as a finger pressed into him, but did as told. 

 

Richard wasn’t in a hurry. His finger explored John’s walls, prodding and pressing. He was enjoying this slow torture, John’s little whimpers and hums sounding like music to his ears.

 

Another finger was added and Ringo scissored them in a painfully slow manner. 

 

John bit his lip when his prostate was touched. “Master, please.” He wanted Ringo inside him now.

 

The fingers stopped moving. “I want you to come from this. Clear? Be a good girl.” Ringo said. 

 

So Ringo wanted to  _ milk _ him. John groaned at the back of his throat but nodded, “Yes, master.”

 

The fingers started moving again and soon a third was added. As the movie went on, Richard stretched John and teased his prostate with great patience. John was shaking in his lap and his cock was leaking, staining the pink dress. 

 

The torture went on for another hour and a half, Ringo slowly milking John dry and then more. John’s cock ached from the effort, but Richard was not letting up. He massaged John’s prostate over and over again, while his other hand firmly rested on John’s thigh.

 

It wasn’t until the credits were rolling that Ringo completely pulled out, John having been dried out long ago. His hole clenched around imaginary fingers and he felt the urge to be filled again. 

 

Ringo patter his thigh, “You’ve been a good girl, baby. It’s time for lunch.”

 

John whined. He couldn’t get hard any time soon if he really tried, but he ached for Ringo’s cock inside him. 

 

Richard had never wished for a plug he could fill his lover with more than now. But alas, John would have to remain empty as they ate. He led his woobly lover to the breakfast table and held a chair open for him.

 

John winced and gasp as he sat down, his bottom stinging. 

 

“I’ll order us some sandwiches.” Said Ringo and caressed John’s hair as he made the call.

 

John swung his legs for something do while his hands played with the giant pick bow at his neck. Ringo was sitting in front of him, examining him with hungry eyes. 

 

There was a knock at the door and John expected the drummer to go out to bring the food in. 

 

But instead, Ringo said, “Come in.”

 

John tensed up, “Master-“

 

“Hush, baby girl.” Ringo wasn’t even looking at him.

 

The door opened and a young man entered with the food trolley.

 

John blushed all over and bowed down in embarrassment, but the young man made no comment as he served them their food. Ringo had hired him from a specific agency as part of John’s punishment. 

 

And indeed, John felt humiliated at being seen as he was dressed but didn’t dare to lash out. Then his punishment would grow longer and Ringo wouldn’t fuck him. So he relaxed and ate the sandwiches in silence.

 

Ringo cleared out the plates and stood behind John when he was back. He rested his hands on his lover’s shoulders, “What do we say?”

 

“Thank you, Master.” John said.

 

“You’re welcome, baby. Now stand.” 

 

John did as told and the chair was moved away. 

 

Ringo pressed him against the table. “I think it’s time for your reward, do you think you deserve it?”

 

John gasped in need, “Please, Master. Please fuck me.”

 

Ringo did not answer, he only pushed John down so that he was bent over the breakfast table, bare ass in complete view. 

 

John moaned loudly as the drummer pushed in and gripped the sides of the table. 

 

Ringo set a rapid pace, but wasn’t too rough in his movements. He groaned and grunted as John’s tightness surrounded him, the edges of the dress bouncing against his chest.

 

John has his stockinged legs well spread and he raised them in ecstasy every time his prostate was hit. If it weren’t for Ringo’s body holding him against the table, John would have been a poodle on the floor.

 

It was clear that Ringo would come before John, the younger man still recovering from the earlier ministrations. So even after the drummer had spent inside John, he kept thrusting until John had his pleasure.

 

With a scream, John came into the table and gasped as he came down from his climax.

 

Ringo pulled out and picked up John as the man went to faint. With one arm under his back and another under his knees, Richard carried him into the bedroom. He laid him on the bed and removed the cum stained dress along with the shoes and stockings. 

 

John was smiling at him when he came back from putting them in the laundry basket. 

 

Ringo laid next to him and wrapped him in his arms, “Did you enjoy today, Johnny?”

 

John hummer and closed his eyes, “I loved it.” And he would do it over and over again. “Thank you, Master.”

 

Ringo kissed his forehead, “Welcome, baby.”

 

The others came back the next day to a more relaxed and happier John, and Paul has never wanted to hug Ringo more.


End file.
